Howl For Me
by Kittenshift17
Summary: With the wizarding population at an all time low, the Ministry enacts a Marriage Law, magically pairing couples who'd never in a million years agree to even speak, let alone wed. Paired off with Malfoy, Hermione has to suffer the added indignity of the Ministry banning all contraception and forcing fertility treatment and aphrodisiacs on them all. Draco's secret makes it worse.
1. Prologue

**WARNINGS: This fic will contain scenes of a sexual nature and is a Marriage Law fic, where the couples are paired non-con-sensually. They are also coerced into fancying the pants off each other via chemical stimulants. If that's not your thing, probably don't read. **

**Pairings for this story include: Hermione/Draco, Ginny/Blaise, Ron/Pansy, Harry/Tracy, Luna/Rolf, Neville/Hannah, George/Angelina and a few others. **

**If you see this story posted under any other Title, and any other pen name outside of Kittenshift17 or KittenWolf17, it's been stolen, so let me know and report it =) There's a lot of it going around lately unfortunately, so just keep your eyes peeled. I hope you like the story and I apologize in advance that I have SO many WIPs. I've got even more still unpublished... so yeah. Reviews make me write faster and I love to hear your thoughts. xx-Kitten.**

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**Howl For Me**

_Prologue_

Kingsley Shacklebolt buried his head in his hands at the thought of undertaking the task before him. It was colossal and bound to cause an uprising. Merlin, if he wasn't Minister for Magic and didn't have all the facts…. As surely as he sat there, Kingsley knew that if someone tried to impose a Marriage law contract on him by order of the Ministry he'd go ballistic.

He didn't want to do it. People would probably call for his dismissal as Minister, or perhaps for his head.

There was just no other way. The two wizarding wars that had ravaged Britain had wiped out more than half of the wizarding population. Mostly it was due to the fact that so many of the Death Eaters that had been rounded up, had been given the Dementor's Kiss. What had once been a proud nation boasting more than three thousand witches and wizards, was now down to just over one thousand living, functioning individuals, several of whom were locked up in Azkaban with no hope of release. Running around in the UK there were currently one thousand and fifty three magical beings of the witch or wizards persuasion.

That wasn't the worst part though. The worst thing about that statistic was that several of those Witches and Wizards were married couples who had already had children and were getting on in years. Most were unlikely to have any more children without some kind of Ministry decree, the likes of which he was about to instate.

They needed a way to boost the numbers back up and unfortunately Kingsley saw no other way than to instate a Marriage contract decreeing any witch or wizard over the age of seventeen was to be married and begin having children. It had even been voted on by the Wizengamot. Each person would be advised of the name of their intended spouse and would be bound by a legal contract to wed that person within the month. By further order, each pairing was expected to produce a minimum of four offspring during the course of their marriage, ensuring that they not just replaced themselves on the population, but doubled their numbers.

There was just no other way. After the war, several couples _had_ actually married. Some had even begun having children. But others were out there living their lives free of the Darkness, revelling in being young witches and wizards. And Kingsley was about to ruin it.

He stared at the parchment in his hands, wondering if it could be correct. If there was some way he could get around this law he would do so, but there wasn't. Merlin, even he was about to be forced into an arranged marriage. He'd had several seers, arithmancers and astrologers get together to work on ensuring that the people they would be pairing together would have some shot at happiness. He was less that pleased with the list before him.

Of the 1053 witches and wizards in Britain, 311 were underage or incarcerated in Azkaban for the rest of their natural lives. A further 256 couples were already married, or too old or addled to bother with being forced into a marriage since there was no feasible chance of producing offspring. That left 230 magical folk who were about to be paired off to a person not of their choosing in order to populate the world with more magic folk. Before him was a list of 115 couples since by some strange twist of fate the 230 people were evenly divided as women and men.

And every free, able-bodied witch or wizard in all of Britain was waiting in a massively extended Wizengamot chamber at the Ministry, awaiting the news as to why they had all been summoned together. They were waiting for him to arrive and explain why they'd all been summoned so urgently, why they were about to have their lives uprooted and transplanted into mismatched pots.

Even his. Kingsley stared at the list in his hands again. At the sight of his named paired up with that of a witch named Valmai Morgan, a chaser on the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team. In all honesty, he didn't mind his pairing. A woman interested in Quidditch would probably have at least a thing or two in common with an Auror. Surely…

Some of the other pairings on the list however, had Kingsley dreading facing the public even more. A few of the pairings were downright preposterous and would no doubt result in a long and unhappy tirade of rioting complaints.

Taking a deep breath, Kingsley got to his feet and took up his list, resigning himself to the fact that he may be walking to his doom as he made for the conference hall housing every witch or wizard who was a free citizen of Britain.


	2. Chapter 1

**Howl For Me**

_Chapter 1_

Hermione Granger glanced around the conference hall at the gathered people. It seemed like everyone she knew and had heard of was there. She glanced to her right, looking at Harry and Ron who were sitting and talking amongst themselves about what could possibly be going on that everyone had been summoned to the Ministry and wondering what was keeping Kingsley. To her left Hermione found Ginny chatting animatedly with Luna, seeming unaware of the sense of unease running through Hermione.

She didn't know why but as Hermione glanced around, further noticing the inhabitants of the hall, she felt a strange sense of foreboding take hold of her, the icy fingers of dread trailing up and down her spine. She saw so many familiar faces.

There was Seamus and Dean, Neville and his grandmother, George and the other Weasleys, the Patil twins, Hannah Abbott and Terry Boot. She spotted Zacharias Smith and even the three Malfoys. Professor McGonagall was there, and there was Marney from Hermione's department at work along with her husband Liam. Further inspection had Hermione noticing Valmai Morgan and a few of the other women from Ginny's Quidditch team; even old Mr. Ollivander was there. It seemed as though every witch or wizard not currently locked in Azkaban was in attendance.

"Hermione, are you ok?" Harry asked, catching sight of her nervous expression, "You look like you're about to have a panic attack."

Hermione turned to her best friend with wide eyes.

"Harry… I don't know why, but I have this terrible feeling that something bad is going to happen," Hermione confided in him.

"What kind of bad? Like someone's going to try and attack all of us here?" Harry asked, immediately alert as he glanced around as though expecting someone to stat hexing people just like he'd been learning in Auror training.

"No Harry…. Awful like that we're about to find out something terrible. Why else would the Ministry summon every person from the magical world not locked in Azkaban? Literally everyone we've ever known or heard of is here in this room right now," the concerned, twenty-two year old witch asked in a whisper.

"Maybe they have some kind of announcement and want everyone in the magical world to hear it here so that everyone gets the correct message," Ron suggested, surprising Hermione once again when he actually had a logical and useful suggestion to offer.

Hermione stared at her ex-boyfriend regretfully for a moment. Things with Ron just hadn't worked out. They'd dated for a while and it had been nice, but after the war had ended and everything began to calm down and go back to normal, Hermione and Ron had both realised that they wanted different things out of life. Ron had gone into Auror training with Harry, while Hermione had returned to Hogwarts to complete her education and now worked in the Department of Magical Creatures office. They were still close friends and had parted on good mutual terms, which Hermione was grateful for, but they'd both decided it would be for the best if they broke up.

Ginny and Harry too, had fallen victim to the yearning for different things and had also broken up after a year or so of dating; Ginny joining the Harpies Quidditch team while Harry became an Auror.

"But what kind of announcement is so important that they would drag everyone here and not just put it in the papers or send out owls?" Hermione murmured ominously and she watched both Harry and Ron pale considerably at the kinds of things that might call for this kind of gathering.

Before they could speculate further, Kingsley Shacklebolt strode into the room and took his place at a large lectern. The full Wizengamot were seated behind him and looked on seriously. Hermione felt dread curl in the pit of her stomach as she watched Kingsley call for quiet.

"My good people," he began and Hermione could tell from the strained tone of his voice that he was uncomfortable, "It is under regretful and very serious circumstances that you have all been summoned here today."

He paused to draw in breath and let the seriousness of the moment, the gravity of the situation, fall over the room in a hush. Hermione felt that fist of dread seize hold of her insides and begin to tighten.

"As many of you are probably aware, the wizarding world is in a state of some considerable trouble. You see, as it stands, every free witch or wizard currently residing in Britain is in this very room right now."

Hermione closed her eyes as she realised with a sense of horror where this announcement might be heading. This was going to be even worse than an announcement of some new horror wanting to destroy their world.

"A somewhat alarming realisation, isn't it?" Kingsey appealed to them all and several people nodded in agreement, looking around and frowning in concern. "As is perhaps obvious to you now, the population of witches and wizards within Britain has been greatly diminished due to the wars and resulting deaths of people fighting for both sides. As it stands, there are currently one thousand a fifty three of us," He paused to draw breath, "Of that number, five hundred and twelve of you are married or already beyond the age where producing children is achievable. 22 individuals currently reside in Azkaban Prison and are unlikely to ever be released. A further 289 of you are under the age of seventeen."

Hermione turned to Harry and stared at him, waiting for him to realise the horror that was about to befall them. Waiting for the bomb to drop.

"Something must be done about our drastically reduced population. As of last night, the final vote was taken by the Wizengamot, proposing a drastic decree in order to replenish the magical population of Britain," Kingsley told them, "You have all been brought here to be informed that there is now, in effect, a binding magical Act decreeing that any witch or wizard over the age of seventeen who has finished school and is not already married or beyond the age were having children is no longer possible, must work towards replenishing the population."

Hermione heard several people gasp and wondered if everyone understood the gravity of what was about to happen.

"In effect I'm telling you that you all need to start popping out children," Kingsely said and Hermione could see even from her seat the way the Minister was beginning to grow hysterical, "What many of you might not be aware of, is that witches and wizards cannot conceive children unless they are bound in holy matrimony."

"Hermione, what is he saying?" Harry whispered to her. Before she could explain Kingsley kept speaking, his booming voice drowning out the muttering that had begun amidst the crowd.

"Effective immediately, the two hundred and thirty witches and wizards who are capable of bearing children but not yet joined in matrimony, are hereby ordered to be married to a person of the Ministry's choosing. I have here a list of the couples paired up by several renowned Seers, Arithmancers and Astrologists. Be aware that the person chosen for you is one that it has been foreseen will contribute to a happy and prolific match. As of today, the one hundred and fifteen couples on this list will have one month to join in holy matrimony, at which time they will begin to produce offspring. It has been decreed that each couple will birth a minimum of four live children, including couples that are already married who have less than four kids. Anyone found to have attempted to flee this decree by leaving the country or refusing to marry will be put to death."

The entire occupancy of the room went ballistic. All around her, people were jumping to their feet, shouting at Kingsely, shouting at the Wizengamot, at each other, some hurled a hex – or tried, only to learn that the room had been magically disabled to prevent such an occurrence.

"ENOUGH!" Kingsely roared after they had all been shouting for more than ten minutes.

Everyone fell silent in the face of his ferocity.

"I am more than aware of the outrage you all feel at this decree, given that I myself am among the two hundred and thirty unfortunate witches and wizards that this Decree will directly impact. I understand your outrage, your anger, your fear. I am here to tell you that there is no escape clause. If you refuse this contract, you will die. When the decree was signed and passed last night a spell came into effect that will seek out anyone trying to escape the marriage law. If you try to flee or if you choose not to be married to your designated spouse, you will fall ill and remain that way until you see reason."

"That's not fair!" Someone cried out shrilly.

"No, it's not fair. It's wretchedly unfair that so few of us managed to survive the war, and perfectly horrid that an even larger number of us did not survive. However, our race is very much facing the possibility of extinction. There are only two hundred of thirty of us who have yet to have children that are still able and of age. Only two hundred and eighty-nine of us underage. Our population is currently at less than half of what it was before the wars began, and we are making no effort to save ourselves. We will die out. Without this law we will cease to exist as a species within Britain."

"You don't know that!" someone else called angrily, "Where's the proof?"

"Your proof is right here," Kingsley said, and Hermione watched him lift a small glass ball, one containing a prophecy. He dropped it into something that looked like a penseive and everyone in the room listened as the hollow resonating voice of a seer prophesised the extinction of the magical race within Britain should such a law not be passed.

"Do you understand?" he appealed to them all, "I didn't want to do this. The Wizengamot didn't want to do it. We didn't fight in the war for our freedom only to be forced into a marriage, some of us with people who seem entirely incompatible. But without it, we are all going to be wiped out as a race. We cannot reproduce without being married and so, those of us who can, will be getting married or will be saying their goodbyes and dying within the month."

Hermione expected more outrage, but it seemed that everyone had gone into shock at hearing the news. No one uttered a single word. Hermione didn't want to be the one to ask the most important question on all of this, but she was going to else she'd go mad. Rising slowly to her feet, Hermione felt the eyes of every magical person in the room begin to swivel and fix on her. The Wizengamot stared, Kingsley stared, Ginny beside her looked up at her worriedly, Harry stared as though he hoped Hermione had some plan to enact.

"Kingsley... er, I mean... Minister?" Hermione began, her voice sounding much stronger and sterner than she felt, "I'm sure that of everyone here, those of us on that list of two hundred and thirty people know who we are. It would seem we all have no choice whatsoever but to accept this and get on with it…. Please, could you tell us who it is you've paired us all with?"

Hermione stared into Kingsley dark eyes and she could swear she saw regret, sympathy and sorrow flashing in them as he peered back at her.

"Hermione," Kingsley sighed, "I'm afraid that everyone on this list will be distraught when they learn who they're to marry. Perhaps it is not in the best interest of everyone to hear such a thing here… I'm so sorry."

"On the contrary," an elderly witch cut in before Hermione could feel any true fear about why Kingsley would apologise to her, "I think it would be for the best for the two hundred and thirty people that this affects to hear this together. Anyone who is currently under the age of seventeen, please exit the hall now."

Hermione held her breath as children and teenagers left the hall, several of them carrying out younger siblings or the babies of family friends.

"Anyone who is married please leave now as well, keep in mind that if your are still able to conceive children and have less than four kids, you are expected to try for more," the old woman called and more people left.

"Those of you who are unmarried but no longer able to conceive children, please leave now," the woman called and Hermione felt Ginny reach over and take her hand. On the other side, Harry grasped her hand. All around the room, Hermione looked to see the people who were left.

She, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, George, Seamus, Hannah, the Patil twins… there were so many more that she knew by name or face. Across the room she saw Malfoy next to Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode. There were more. The people in the hall ranged between the ages of seventeen and about fifty or so.

"Alright," The woman said stern, "Minister, I would like to ask you, and the others on the Wizengamot affected by the decree to join the others down there please, while I read out these one hundred a fifteen pairings."

She waited as those people did as they were asked. Hermione stared at her, feeling utter terror trying to take hold.

"Now then. Be warned that making a big deal about this will get you nowhere. This room has been disabled magically to prevent anyone from being hurt. Moreover, as of last night all two hundred and thirty of you have been brought under a protective binding spell. There is no way out. If you try to run, you will become so ill that the Ministry will be able to find you and extradite you from wherever you run to. If you try to refuse the marriage, you will become impossibly ill and stay that way until you agree to the marriage. If you try to do yourself in or try to kill your new spouse, you will be unsuccessful. If you try to have someone else kill your spouse, they will be unsuccessful. There is no way out of this contract and no way for you to avoid marrying the person you have been paired with. And no, you may not swap spouses to someone amid this group that you feel you might prefer to your designated spouse."

She paused for several long minutes, letting that information sink in. Waiting for them all to realise the utter hopelessness of their situation.

"Alright, now I will read out the pairings. When I do I would like each pair to approach each other. If you do not know your intended spouse, introduce yourself and then take a seat beside one another on the benches over there," she pointed, "Minister I feel it's only fitting that we start with you." The old woman said before saying clearly and firmly.

"Kingsely Shacklebolt paired with Valmai Morgan."

Hermione watched the way a young witch who looked to be in her early thirties approached Kingsely, silently shook his hand and offered him a small smile before walking with him to the benches and taking a seat.

"The rest of you take note. That was a perfect example of how you will deal with this situation. I do not want tantrums in this room. I do not want complaints or arguments or anything else."

With that she began reading out pairings, and couples began moving towards the benches and sitting beside one another in silence. Hermione felt her stomach begin to squirm in terror as the number of people began to thin out.

"Neville Longbottom paired with Hannah Abbott," was read and Hermione noticed that Hannah and Neville both looked relieved.

"Harry Potter," the woman read out, "Paired with Tracy Davis."

Hermione saw Harry's left fist clench as he searched the room with his eyes for the Slytherin girl from their year. She was surprised by the way Tracy approached so calmly and offered Harry her hand and a tiny, hopeful smile. In one look she conveyed that she hoped she and Harry cold come to some kind of truce and try to work through this. It was a typical response from a pureblood witch, since she'd probably spent her life preparing for an arranged marriage and at least Harry would treat her properly and wasn't a cruel person.

"Gregory Goyle paired with Millicent Bullstrode."

Hermione watch the pair of former Slytherins turn and grimace at each other, though it looked somewhat good-natured before moving towards the benches.

"George Weasley paired with Angelina Johnson."

George and Angelina smiled at each other and Angelina embraced George in relief before they too made their way over to the bench, George dropped down next to Harry, making sure to clap the bespectacled man on the shoulder to offer him comfort at the idea of marrying a stranger.

"Rolf Scamander paired with Luna Lovegood."

Hermione watched with curiosity as the pair approached each other. Hermione hadn't thought it could be possible for anyone to look as dreamy as Luna, but Rolf Scamander certainly did. She watched them shake hands before sitting with the others.

Hermione glanced at Ginny and Ron, feeling even more nervous as the number of pairings began to dwindle.

"Blaise Zabini," the woman paused squinting before clucking her tongue worriedly, "paired with Ginevra Weasley."

Hermione held her breath, waiting for Ginny to explode and turned to her friend, concerned when it didn't happen. Ginny had gone a deathly shade of white as she stared across the small remaining group of people at Blaise Zabini, who stared right back at her, looking just as disturbed.

"Are you sure you read that right?" Hermione asked the witch quietly.

"Quite sure," the woman replied, the first hint of a sympathetic smile gracing her features.

Stiffly Hermione saw Zabini begin to walk forwards, stoic blankness replacing his pale, horrified expression. Hermione squeezed Ginny's hand reassuringly and felt the girl almost crush her palm in return. Just as stiffly, Ginny moved forwards and shook hands with her new fiancé, not saying a word.

On her other side, Hermione felt Ron's hand wrap around hers and Hermione could tell that after looking at the few remaining people left in the circle he was hoping he's be paired with her. Hermione was hoping it too because the alternatives were… Terrifying.

"Ronald Weasley," the woman began before another one of those pauses "Oh sweet merlin!" she whispered in horror before clearing her throat.

"Ahem. Ronald Wealsey paired with… Pansy Parkinson."

"Fuck!" Ron cursed loudly, squeezing Hermione's hand even tighter and paling even more than Ginny had, making his freckles stand out even sharper. Across the room Pansy burst into furious tears and turned, burying her face against Malfoy's shoulder.

"Miss Parkinson, Mr Weasley, please make your way over to the benches," the woman, whom Hermione suddenly recognised as Madame Atwell, said quietly.

Ron moved to storm over there without even acknowledging Pansy and Hermione tightened her grip on his hand, jerking him back around. Pansy was still crying against Malfoy's shoulder and Hermione could tell she wasn't going to move.

"What are you doing Hermione?" Ron demanded in a whisper.

"Ronald Weasley I know you are upset by this, but I can tell you right now that you are going to be stuck with that girl for the rest of your life. You are going to marry her and you will have children with her. They've made it so you have no choice. So right now, you have a decision to make; you can storm off and throw a tantrum about this, ignoring the fact that your new fiancé is in tears because she's just as unhappy about this as you; or you can go over there and act like the mature man I know you can be while you shake her hand and help the poor thing to her seat," Hermione told him.

She spoke quietly but the room was dead silent but for Pansy's sniffling and sobbing, "Now, the decision is yours, but you should keep in mind that you are going to spend what could very well be the next hundred years or longer married to that young woman. For the rest of your life you and Pansy will have to tolerate each other, have kids together, live together…. Given the demonstrations you've had in the past, I don't think I really need to tell you about the consequences of your actions and how upsetting a woman is not a wise choice, let alone tell you how hostile an environment your marriage will be if you are rude or cruel to Pansy. You might not like it right now, and she might not either. You might never be particularly pleased about this, but this is the way it is. So, you can be nice and considerate, go over there and make peace with her in the hopes that if not a loving marriage you can at least have one that is civil. Or you can storm off like a complete arse and spend the rest of your life alternating between being angry, and feeling awkward and embarrassed every time you look your future wife in the eye."

Everyone in the room seemed to feel the gravity of Hermione's quiet lecture and Ron looked ready to pout but Hermione squeezed his hand hard and glared at him warningly. She could practically feel the way everyone in the room that had been utterly silent up until now as they waited for the opportunity to explode about the turn their lives had taken, was slowly turning to their new fiancé and taking another look, realising that maybe things wouldn't be perfect but they didn't need to be hostile and uncomfortable or painful either.

Hermione held her breath as she watched Ron war with himself. He stared into her eyes for a long moment and Hermione watched the way a little part of him died inside. She knew it was the part that hoped for the loving kind of marriage his parents had. As she stared back Hermione realised too that for all that they'd mutually broken up, Ron still loved her and had probably fostered some secret longing to marry her someday. Hermione knew she felt that way. They'd gone separate ways, but Hermione had secretly wondered if maybe they'd get themselves in order and get back together someday.

There was no hope of that now.

When Ron pulled her into a tight hug, she knew it was his way of completely letting her go. Hermione pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck where she'd burrowed her face in as she tried not to cry for Ron or for the fact that she had a terrible sinking feeling that she knew who it was she'd been paired with. There was only one person left in this group that would have Kingsley feeling the need to apologise to her.

When Ron let her go he took a deep breath in and sighed it out slowly before he walked towards Pansy. She was still sniffling into Malfoy's shoulder – though he offered her no comfort - and she shrank away when she felt Ron's gentle hand on her shoulder. Hermione held her breath as they took their seats, Pansy still sniffling and red-eyed. She waited, knowing what would be coming and steeling herself against the fact that her life was going to hell in a hand-basket.

The woman opened her mouth again, this time to read out two more names and ruin the lives of two more people.

"Draco Malfoy paired with Hermione Granger."

Across the hall, Malfoy scowled at her letting her know that he was clearly not pleased about this, though Hermione could tell that he too had been expecting this turn of events and preparing himself for the worst. Since the benches where everyone was sitting were behind her, Hermione waited stiffly, refusing to let any emotion show on her face at all as Malfoy slowly came towards her.

She could hear people gasping in sympathy and horror from behind her, suspecting Ginny and her other friends were responsible – no doubt they were worried about how this particular pairing would play out since it was well known that there was bad blood and a nasty history between the handsome pureblood wizard and the pretty muggleborn witch. Hermione just watched and waited as Malfoy came closer. He stopped directly in front of her, standing just a little too close for her to be comfortable and definitely within her personal space, forcing her to have to look up to keep staring stoically into his pointed scowling face.

She tried not to flinch as she watched him roll up his sleeves, revealing the dark mark that was still burned into his skin, a tattooed tribute to which side he'd been on in the war. An ugly reminder of their past. Smirking nastily, he offered her his left hand, the one with the Dark Mark on his forearm, waiting for her to shake it.

Hermione glared up at him, realising that in spite of the war being over, in spite of the fact that they had helped save each other's lives during that war, he wasn't going to make this easy for either of them.

That much was abundantly clear when Hermione shook his hand and he almost crushed her palm even as he used his grip on her to drag her closer until her could murmur into her ear.

"I hope you weren't looking for civility here Granger, because you won't find any."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Hermione shuddered when she felt his lips brush against her ear and she bit her tongue on the nasty things she would like to say to her new fiancé. She knew he was baiting her, trying to get a rise out of her. Wanting everyone to watch her lose her temper and let all hell break loose. And she wasn't going to let it happen.

Instead Hermione brought her free hand up to rest against his chest for a moment before she gently shoved him backwards and smiled up into his face sweetly.

"You're right Draco," Hermione purred at him, "I think it would be best if we put our differences behind us and I accept your apology."

Hermione watched the way his eyes narrowed on her dangerously even as she pulled her hand out of his and spun around, walking away from him towards a pair of empty seats while everyone else was paired off. Hermione sat gracefully, maintaining her composure even though people were glancing at them in surprise, having heard Hermione's words and not Malfoy's and so thinking that he'd been mature and level-headed about the news, going so far as to apologise to her. She gave a sweet little smile to anyone who glanced at her when Malfoy dropped into the seat on her right, ensuring his Dark mark was still close to her and within her line of sight.

She knew that there was no way either of them would be able to hurt one another, no matter how much she wanted to punch him and so had opted for the only thing she could use to hurt him – damaging his reputation. Not that it could get much worse since his family was known as being a pack of Death Eaters and it was also well known that he and his parents had defected at the end of the war, hence being pardoned. They were ostracised and still dangerous, though mostly despised.

Since the cold hard reality was that Hermione too was about to become a Malfoy, she was going to do what she could to mend the way the world saw them. She was going to be tied to him through marriage for the rest of her life and right now there was nothing that could hurt him more than having people stop being afraid of him and his parents and instead think that he was being mature, polite and responsible.

"You're going to pay for that Granger," Malfoy whispered and Hermione shuddered again when she felt his tattooed left arm settle around her shoulders, tugging her closer to growl into her ear.

"And you're going to be married to someone much smarter than you for the rest of your natural life," Hermione murmured, turning her face into his neck and leaning closer as though they were continuing whatever private conversation the group believed he had started out on the floor, "Does it really seem wise to go into this acting like you're big and bad when we all know you're nothing but a scared boy with a tattoo, pissed off because his parents are going to flip when he has no choice but to marry a muggle-born and ruin the _good_ Malfoy name?"

Malfoy scowled at Hermione menacingly and Hermione stared right back, giving him another small smile to keep up the appearance of them seeming to get along with one another.

"Does it really seem wise to you to go into this pretending you and I are ever going to be civil or get along, when the fact that you're muggle-born and I'm a pureblood from one of the most notorious families means that both of our lives are about to go to shit?" Malfoy shot back, his voice low and gravelly as he leant into her slightly.

Hermione tried to keep from shuddering at the way it felt to have his arm resting heavily across her shoulders and have him leaning so close to her. She tried to keep from breathing in the scent of his cologne as well, but the sharp citrus smell of lemon filled her nose just the same. Just as she was about to pull away from him, not wanting to hear any more about the fact that she was about to be stuck with him for the rest of her life - a fact that made her want to cry - his hand wrapped around the top of her shoulder, pulling her in until she was pressed against his side and his lips brushed against her ear.

"And trust me Granger, from here on out things for you especially are going to go to bollocks in a hurry."

"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded in a whisper.

"I don't need to threaten you," he smirked, "I'm just stating fact."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on him, entirely uncomfortable with sitting so close to him, practically snuggled against his side thanks to the tight grip he had on her shoulders. She was very much aware that a marriage law designed to repopulate Britain's wizarding population would call for her to be a whole lot closer to Draco Malfoy and Hermione caught the way Malfoy looked smug, thinking his words were what had her beginning to tremble.

"Can I have your attention?" The woman who had been reading the names called out, "Your attention, please."

Hermione tried to move away from Malfoy but he refused to loosen the grip he had on her, clearly punishing her for making him look nice and apologetic by touching her and holding her in place much closer to him than she preferred.

"Well now, you're finally all paired up so let's jump right into everything. As has been mentioned all of you have been magically bound together, so if there is anyone here currently thinking they would rather spend the rest of their lives on their deathbed in St. Mungo's than marry their new spouse, you should be aware that the person you are paired with will suffer the same fate unless they actively try to change your mind. I don't think I need to tell any of you that eventually you will be forced to abide by the rules set in place by this marriage contract, and resistance will only result in you doing permanent, irreparable damage to your body and psychological state of wellbeing."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, uncomfortably aware of him since he had pulled her so that she was sitting so close that her right shoulder was tucked under his arm and her side was pressed right up against his torso. He didn't seem to notice her closeness, but instead stared at the woman speaking, as though he would very much like to murder her and a little like he was plotting a way to do so the minute they left this room.

"It was decided by the Ministry, given the enactment of this contract and the likelihood of an upset that we would be providing all of you with one of these," The small, slightly wicked looking woman announced with a smile that Hermione could only describe as devious, holding something up that gleaned in the brightly lit room.

"As such, all two hundred and thirty of you will be given a matrimonial band identical to this one. You will wear it from today until your wedding ceremony, at which time each one of you will remove your ring and give it to your new wife or husband. And yes, they are magically resizable so I can assure you that the bands will fit everyone. Mathalda, be a dear and pass these out would you please? Now, I don't want anyone to put their ring on until everyone has theirs, is that clear?"

As the rings were passed out, everyone waited in silence, accepting their ring stoically. Hermione realized the pall over the room was one of awkward embarrassment and irritation as she glanced around.

Ginny caught her eye from a few rows away, staring at Hermione for the way Malfoy still had his arm around her. There was terror in her eyes as Zabini shifted in his seat next to hers, and Hermione wondered to herself at Ginny's reaction. After all, Zabini might be a bit of an arrogant git, but he had played no part in the war; he was handsome, clearly taking after his famously beautiful mother, and from what Hermione had heard about him he was doing well for himself since leaving Hogwarts. As far as she was aware Zabini had opened his own business, one that invented and custom-made magical watches, clocks and other time keeping devices, and she had heard it was quite successful. It was traditional in the wizarding world to be given a watch upon turning 17, and many people were keen to purchase clocks like the one belonging to the Weasley family, since the old clock maker who had made their clock had passed away some ten or so years ago.

Sure, Zabini was a little bigoted while they had all been at school but he hadn't been that bad a bloke. Hermione couldn't remember a time he had ever called her a mudblood, though she recalled a memorable conversation in which he had called Ginny attractive but followed quickly with comments of her being a blood traitor. She offered Ginny a small, reassuring smile, silently communicating with a flick of her eyes to Zabini and then to Malfoy that Ginny could have been worse off. At least she wouldn't be marrying a renowned, denounced ex-Death Eater who had bullied and tormented her all through their time at Hogwarts. Ginny managed a small, sympathetic smile before she was distracted by being handed the ring that was to become her wedding ring.

Even when Mathalda came around to Hermione, Malfoy didn't take his arm from her shoulder. Hermione sat up straighter, realizing that in the chilly room she had subconsciously relaxed against his warmth. She was surprised not only at herself for doing so, but also for the fact that such a cold hearted man could be warm. For some silly reason Hermione had begun to believe he would be cold skinned like a reptile. Like the snake he so reminded her of, slippery and cunning with a lethal bite.

Silently Hermione accepted the ring when it was handed to her, noting the smooth gold surface of the simple band. It felt heavy in her palm and Hermione felt another tremble wrack her frame as she stared at the piece of metal that would signify the union between herself and Draco.

Beside her, Malfoy barely moved. Unlike her, he didn't sit up straight or lean forwards to take the ring. Instead he stared defiantly up at Mathalda for several long moments and Hermione held her breath, waiting for him to finally explode into a rage at the idea of anyone trying to tie one of the few remaining pureblood heirs to a mudblood and effectively destroying a centuries-pure bloodline of wizards. She waited for it and kept right on waiting when very slowly, glaring at Mathalda the entire time and barely move a muscle, Malfoy raised his right hand, palm slightly cupped. He didn't hold it out as though anticipating being given something but instead held it directly in front of his slouching form as though daring Mathalda to reach out and put the ring in his palm. It was a strange sight, Hermione mused, watching Malfoy closely, that Mathalda's hand shook just a little as she extended it towards him and she noticed the way Mathalda waited until her palm was above Malfoy's before tipping and dropping the ring into his cupped hand in a clever move of avoiding having to touch the unpredictable man glaring at her. She found it strange too that he slowly closed his hand until the ring was clenched tightly in his fist. It fascinated her somewhat to see Malfoy so evidently restrained, since she'd not had anything to do with him since before the war.

It was clear that he must have learned to control his temper a little more and Hermione wondered if it was due to the fact that during the uprising of Death Eaters he had burned out his temper, or if it stemmed more from growing accustomed to being scared, feared and utterly despised by most of the wizarding world, and having dealt with seeing his father - a man he appeared to have worshipped during adolescence - fall so far from grace with Voldemort before following in his father's footsteps and also being disgraced. After all, it would take a great amount of restraint to bite one's tongue on words of fear, weakness and anger in an attempt to tiptoe around a sociopath. Hermione supposed that he could just be waiting until they had all left this magically disabled room, where he could lose his temper effectively whilst possessing the ability to hex everyone responsible for this mess, and possibly her too.

Though if she had understood the woman earlier, Hermione suspected that even if he did try to hex her or have his parents try killing her, they would be unsuccessful. There must be a clause within the forced marriage contract stating that all persons affected directly or indirectly would under no circumstance be provided the capability to weasel, bargain, murder, lie or otherwise wiggle their way out of this marriage kafuffle.

Sighing softly at the hopelessness of their situation, Hermione cast another surreptitious glance at Draco Malfoy. He was different now, to the way he'd looked in school and during the war. Where once he had worn his hair slicked back or neatly combed, it now hung carelessly around his face. He'd also let it grow out long enough that it hung into his grey eyes. He no longer looked so painfully pointed either, and he had a light dusting of five o'clock shadow on his jaw, contrasting a shade of golden blonde like his eyebrows rather than his still platinum blonde head hair. The dark, bruise-like circles beneath his eyes that Hermione remembered from war time were gone as well. If she were to be completely honest with herself, she might even describe him as handsome. She knew he was aware of her less than subtle inspection of him when he began to smirk, and Hermione looked away quickly, trying to ignore the way his smirk made her feel stupid for looking at him and trying to pretend she wasn't blushing at having been caught.

"Now then, that's everyone" the spokeswoman called for their attention and Hermione realised that while she'd been staring at Malfoy, everyone else had been given their rings and were all alternating between staring at their new rings looking forlorn, sneaking glances at their new spouse, or glaring up at the Wizengamot.

"To make something of a ceremony of today's event, all of you are going to put your rings on at the same time." The woman smiled brightly, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the witch, not at all liking the way she seemed so gleeful about all of this.

"On three, I want everyone to put their rings on. Alright then one…. Two… three."

Hermione slid the plain gold band over the tip of her finger and down to her knuckle, feeling the weight of the moment in the weight of the ring on her hand and not liking it one bit. She stared at her hand for a minute, noticing out the corner of her eye the way Malfoy was doing the same, glaring at the ring that was now on his wedding finger.

"Excellent," The speaking witch said with a clap of her hands. "Now I suppose we ought to make sure you all understand the implications of your arranged marriages."

Hermione glared up at the woman as scrolls of parchment began floating towards them all. When she got hers Hermione shrugged away from Malfoy, realising she'd still been sitting underneath his arm. She pretended not to notice the way his hand on her tightened a moment as though he intended to stop her from pulling away, but when she shot a glare at him too he smirked and let her shuffle away from him.

Wrenching open the scroll Hermione scanned it with her eyes narrowed, searching for a loophole that would get them all out of this.

**_Wizarding Marriage Act - 2000_**

**_It is hereby decreed that any unmarried witch and wizard of Britain above the age of seventeen who has completed their education and is still of reasonable child-bearing age is to be married. Each individual enters into the contract of a traditional marriage agreement, as arranged by the Ministry of Magic. This act has been put in place to ensure the continuity of the wizarding race, taking into account the by-laws stating that a witch or wizard may not bear children unless they are bound in holy matrimony._**

**_This contract requires the consent of each individual affected by the decree, as given by the donning of the provided matrimonial band._**

**_Each decreed couple must be married within one month of the issue of this decree._**

**_Expectations on the couples to be married:_**

**_1\. Upon entering into holy matrimony, the couple will share a traditional marriage. A nominated validator will investigate to ensure the consummation of the marriage upon the wedding night._**

**_2\. Each married couple will undertake a minimum of four live births. Miscarrige and Stillborn births will not be counted towards this tally._**

**_3\. Any and all offspring produced of each union will be treated fairly, with love and kindness. The Ministry for Magic will investigate regularly to ensure children born of this Act are happy and healthy._**

**_4\. The couple will share a dwelling and/or place of residence._**

**_5\. Excluding exceptional circumstances to be discussed with the affected individuals; each couple will share the marriage bed._**

**_6\. Spousal abuse of any kind has been herein magically disabled. This includes abuse by others at one spouse's behest._**

**_7\. Any witch or wizard found trying to flee, bargain, buy or otherwise swindle their way out of this agreement will fall deathly ill and remain so until such time that they accept the stipulations of this Marriage Act. The spouse of any witch or wizard attempting to avoid the contract will also fall ill unless they make every effort to ensure the continuation and validity of their marital union._**

**_8\. In order to foster friendship and acceptance between couples, each married pair will enter into a two week honeymoon period at a Ministry provided destination, during which contact of any kind with anyone outside of each spousal pair will be completely disabled except in the event of an emergency._**

**_This marriage act has been put in place by the Minister for Magic; Kinsgley Shacklebolt, in correlation with the Wizengamot; as a drastic measure to ensure the continuation of the wizarding race. Each affected couple has been provided a pair of matrimonial bands, and should it be required, the Ministry for Magic will be responsible for funding the wedding of each affected couple in regard to the following expenses:_**

**_-Providing a qualified witch or wizard to perform the marriage ceremony._**

**_-Supplying food and drink to be had at the wedding reception._**

**_-Ensuring that each witch and wizard is dressed in accordance with the traditional wedding ceremonial garb._**

**_-Photography of the wedding ceremony and happy couples._**

**_-Honeymoon expenses._**

**_Sectors of this Act include;_**

**_1\. The Minimum of Four Births Decree – which hereby finds that any and all married couples still capable of bearing children are bound to a minimum of four live births. Families unable to effectively provide for such a large number may apply to the Ministry for monetary assistance._**

**_2\. The Exceptional Circumstance Enjoinment – referring to individuals with exceptional circumstances that will affect the overall safety or effectiveness of the afore-mentioned Act stipulations. Individuals that fall into this sub-sector of the Marriage Act are to discuss circumstances with the Ministry of Magic. This Enjoinment refers to individuals with extenuating health issues including but not limited to; Infertility and/or Contagious Genetic Conditions that may be passed on to the individual's spouse or children._**

**_3\. The Contraception Suspension Order – herein decreeing that any and all forms of contraception known to the wizarding world are to be suspended and magically disabled until further notice._**

**_4\. The Fertility Proclamation – hereby decreeing that each married or engaged couple is to attend a pre-arranged appointment at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries in order to determine and increase the fertility level of each individual. An appointment notice will be owled to each witch or wizard._**

**_Any questions, queries or complaints may be directed to the Wizengamot via owl, private meeting, or public discussion forum. Be advised that any form of outrage may be taken as dissention; which may result in the dissenting individual falling ill indefinitely. Revolt will result in immediate sentencing to a stay in Azkaban Prison._**

Hermione stared long and hard at the document she'd been given, awkwardly and uncomfortably aware of the fact that the ministry officials had clearly thought of everything. Part of her job in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Department was to dissect legal documents like this one for any loopholes or mistakes that might result in a manner of issues. Meaning that she was very good at finding ways to exploit the legal system, and Hermione knew that there was nothing in this document that would allow for an alteration of circumstances.

"Now then, has everyone had a chance to read the Act?" the speaking witch asked cheerfully, earning herself glares from all around the room.

"If we've finished, is it question time now?" Hermione asked loudly, having finished reading and feeling herself becoming angry at this drastic turn her life had taken.

"Miss Granger" the witch smiled pleasantly and Hermione could tell from the looks on the faces of many of the Wizengamot that they weren't looking forward to dealing with her. She spent a lot of her time in front of them for her work, often out-smarting them and arguing with them for the rights of magical creatures. She wasn't their favourite witch.

"You have questions dear?" the witch asked her with a smile that looked decidedly false "Was there something unclear within the Act?"

Hermione got slowly to her feet, uncomfortable with the height distance of having to stare up at them all whilst seated next to the man they'd decreed she would marry whether she liked it or not.

"As a matter of fact, yes there were a few things left unclear in your little Act" Hermione began pleasantly though her were eyes hard.

She could feel the eyes of everyone in the hall turning to her and Hermione caught the way Harry, Ron and Ginny had all begun to smirk a little as they heard her tone, knowing she often began pleasantly when she was close to exploding into a temper.

"What was it that you misunderstood dear?" the witch at the lecturn asked her.

"Misnderstood is the wrong word I'm afraid" Hermione replied "To misunderstand something, it would first have to be discussed or passingly addressed, which the topic of my question was not."

"I see, a clause we've forgotten perhaps?"

"You could put it that way" Hermione allowed, a slow, cruel smile spreading across her face "You see, nowhere in this sham of a document have you mentioned in any way, shape or form, why it is that you've chosen these arranged unions."

"I beg your pardon Miss Granger, but I think you will find that the purpose of this enactment is mentioned more than once."

"I wasn't referring to the purpose. The population needs to be replenished. I don't think anyone will be arguing with that fact. What isn't mentioned is how and why you chose the pairings you have. Given the history between many of the people you've paired, I'm afraid I see no logic to your choosing and none was offered in the Marriage Act."

"You refer, I assume, to your pairing with Mr Malfoy?" the witch asked her pleasantly.

"My pairing would be a fine example of what I'm getting at" Hermione confirmed "Though it is not the only illogical choice that's been made. I find myself wondering why in Merlin's fiery hell you would think that such pairings would be accepted, let alone allowed to prosper."

"Miss Granger I'm sure the Wienagamot would be more than happy to discuss your issues with your pairing in private," She was informed by a gruff looking wizard in the third row of the officials who had a twitchy handlebar moustache.

Hermione scoffed "Waltley, you and I both know that the Wizengamot has no intention of allowing a private meeting between myself or any of my peers here, and the court."

"Are you doubting the word of the Wizengamot Miss Granger?" the speaker-witch said sharply, losing her smile.

"I'm doubting that the Wizengamot will allow for the arrangement of private meetings, yes. You forget Madam Atwell that I deal with the courts on a regular basis and so am very much aware of the political bollocks you all throw out in order to avoid discussing something you aren't interested in changing or being questioned about. Now if I'm not mistaken this legal document states that any questions, queries or complaints may be discussed with the Wizengamot in a public discussion forum if it is so chosen. I don't think I'm the only one here wanting to know why and how you determined the pairings you did."

There was a murmur of agreement from many of the witches and wizards who'd been paired off, including Malfoy beside her.

Many of the Wizengmot narrowed their eyes at Hermione.

"As has already been mentioned Miss Granger, the pairings have been determined by many renowned Seers."

"And you believe that all two hundred and thirty of us are going to buy into some bollocks spouted by a few crack-pots claiming they read happiness for all of us in their soggy tea-leaves? You expect us to believe that through Divination – a branch of magic that on more than one occasion has been petitioned to be outlawed as being in any way valid – a few superstitious old fools looked into a crystal ball and foresaw happiness between people who have been enemies for the entire time they've known each other?"

"In addition to several Seers proclaiming that you might indeed find happiness with Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger," a pinched looking witch with an upturned nose and nasty scowl snapped "The matter was also put to several accomplished Arithmancers, who determined through Astrological, Runarie, and numerical projections that each match would be the most prolific in regard to growing the population. I trust you don't scorn the magical branch of Arithmancy as well?"

"You expect us to believe that you've done studies finding that pairing enemies is going to grow the population?" Ginny leapt to her feet, finally finding some of the outrage Hermione had expected from her earlier.

Before anyone else could jump to their feet in what Hermione could see was very quickly going to become a screaming match, an Elderly looking wizard with twinkling eyes that somehow reminded Hermione of Dumbledore got to his feet and called for quiet.

"My fine people" he began sympathetically "I understand your confusion and outrage. For some of you this new arrangement will take some getting used to. Before this turns into a riot, I would like to shed a little light on the reasoning behind this ordeal. If you could all retake you seats, I will explain."

Hermione scowled even as she dropped back into her seat, trying to ignore Malfoy sitting beside her. He didn't make it easy since he still had his arm stretched out across the top of her chair, which brushed against her when she sat back in a huff.

"Now. Each pairing has been determined for a number of reasons. This Marriage Act has been put in place to ensure the population of wizarding folk grows drastically. It has been estimated that the population will grow by a minimum of three hundred people per year for the next five years. Those of you who are good at math will know that will mean a population explosion of 1500 witches and wizards during the next five years."

He paused to smile at them all and Hermione raised her eyebrows at the number, realising that this really would be an effective plan to grow the population.

"Now, each pairing has been chosen for many reasons. I'm sure many of you are wondering why it is that you've been paired with your spouse, rather than being told you simply have to marry and start having children. I assume from Miss Granger's questions, that most of you are wondering why you each couldn't have found someone to marry of your choosing rather than ours."

Most people in the hall nodded, excluding those who'd been paired with someone they probably would've picked anyway, like George and Angelina.

"I'm here to tell you that we've chosen for you for three main reasons. They are:

1\. Renowned Seers have foreseen happiness between you and your spouse.

2\. Accomplished Arithmancers have projected the numbers and found each union to be the most prolific.

3\. It has been determined that many of these unions will allow for the disintegration of any remaining blood mania and latent hostility between certain people that could otherwise have blossomed into another war.

Now, I know some of you are wondering how this could possibly be so. Let me give you an example. If all of you had been allowed to choose a spouse from the group of the 230 of you, not all of you would have arrived in an arrangement that would be happy, prolific, or even allowed."

"So there is absolutely no way out of this?" Hermione heard Pansy Parkinson's voice ask despondently.

"None whatsoever." The wizard assured them kindly "I understand that many of you are unhappy with the arranged marriage determined for you, but I'm afraid you're all going to have to get used to it. I would recommend however, that you all heed the advice Miss Granger offered young Mr Weasley earlier. You will marry the spouse chosen for you, and you will spend the rest of your life sharing a home, a bed and several children with this person. You may not like them now, but let me tell you from personal experience that whether you want them to or not, they will grow on you. It might not happen for years. You might be my age before you'll look at them over the heads of your grandchildren or great-grandchildren and suddenly realise that you're looking into the eyes of your best friend. The only wisdom I can offer to you young lads is: even when you're wrong, apologise and that when your new wife is pregnant, make sure to keep all sharp objects away from her because witches are renowned for homicidal tendencies during pregnancy. As for you lovely young ladies the only advice I can think of is to understand that with us fellows, a nicely cooked meal or some sexual act will have more effect at fixing things or changing our minds or getting through to us than explaining things a thousand times and nagging about things will. I don't know how many times I sat through lectures from my wife about some nonsense or other… Still don't remember a single lecture unless it was accompanied by food or sex, actually..."

With that he chuckled to himself and wandered back to his seat, clearly amused with himself. Several other people in the hall were trying not to laugh or blush at his words.

"Now that that's sorted out" the speaking witch, Atwell, began again "I would like to recommend that each of you spend some time today getting to know your spouse if you don't already. Discuss anything you might see as an issue in your upcoming marriage. Take into account that sometime during the next month you will be getting married to this person. You will take an Unbreakable Vow to be their lawfully wedded somebody for the rest of your life. You will be consummating your marriage in the traditional way, and let me tell you folks, you don't want to be still in that awkward 'get to know' you stage when you're expected to have sex with your new wife or husband. Especially since your fertility appointments will result in you wanting to have sex with your somebody, whether your particularly fancy them or not."

Hermione felt herself pale at all the talk of sex and the realisation that sometime in the next month she would have to get up in front of her family and friends and vow herself to Draco Malfoy for the rest of her life; followed by having to go home with him and have sex with him.

Pushing the thought from her mind, Hermione slowly turned towards Malfoy. He wasn't looking at her. He was still staring at the copy of the Marriage Act they'd all been given.

Hermione cleared her throat "I'm not moving into that abomination you call a house."

Malfoy didn't even look up as he replied "Yes you are."

"No I'm not. I will not live in Malfoy Manor. Not after what happened there," Hermione argued with him quietly.

"You will live in Malfoy Manor," he told her, sounding bored as he added "You don't have a choice."

"Excuse me?" Hermione demanded.

"I said you don't have a choice and don't glare at me like that. It's not me being demanding and saying you have to," He told her, his head snapping up and those cold grey eyes meeting her own brown ones.

"Meaning what?" Hermione demanded irritably. That earned her an evil smirk.

"By order of the Ministry" he began in a posh sounding voice "Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are hereby placed under house arrest. Excluding attending your place of work as approved by the Ministry and upon official Ministry summons and/or Ministry direction you are not to leave your place of residence at Malfoy Manor for any reason excepting emergencies and the aforementioned extenuating circumstances."

Hermione stared at him in horror until he chuckled nastily.

"What's the matter Granger? Did you forget the part where you're now engaged to an ex-Death-Eater and marrying into a family where your mother and father-in-law are also both ex-Death Eaters? We might've been acquitted because we defected before the Final Battle but that doesn't exempt us our prior crimes. As a result we are forbidden from leaving the Manor most of the time. Meaning that you will be moving into the Manor when you and I are married because as it says here, "_The couple will share a dwelling and/or place of residence and the marriage bed._"

Horrified Hermione felt her hands ball into fists at the injustice that had become her life. Before she could open her mouth to say something, though she had no idea what to say in the face of marrying her enemy and moving into the house where she'd once been tortured, Malfoy spoke again.

"Oh, and Granger" he began, "You and I will need to '_discuss circumstances with the Ministry of Magic'_ because this particular sector of the Act applies to you and me." He leaned towards her and pointed to a line of the Act she had spread out on her lap. Hermione read the part he was pointing to and felt a fist of dread clench inside her stomach.

2\. The Exceptional Circumstance Enjoinment – referring to individuals with exceptional circumstances that will affect the overall safety or effectiveness of the aforementioned Act stipulations. Individuals that fall into this sub-sector of the Marriage Act are to discuss circumstances with the Ministry of Magic. This Enjoinment refers to individuals with extenuating health issues including but not limited to; Infertility and/or Contagious Genetic Conditions that may be passed on to the individual's spouse and/or children.

Hermione lifted her head slowly to find him watching her with a somewhat grim expression on his face and she stared at him, not really wanting to ask why it was that they would need to see the Ministry about but knowing she was going to have to.

"Why?" Hermione asked him.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked her and Hermione was surprised by the way he sounded so reasonable about it.

"You just said that I need to know since we'll have to meet with the Ministry about it. What is it? What's wrong with you?" she asked, doing her best to keep any fear or prejudice out of her voice.

She was secretly praying that he was going to tell her he was infertile, but Hermione got the feeling she wasn't going to be that lucky.

"You don't really need to know" he hedged and Hermione found herself even more surprised, especially when he glanced around furtively as though trying to make sure there was no one paying attention to them at all.

Hermione sighed. Slowly she leant towards him and she felt the way his body tensed up as Hermione pressed herself against his side. She wanted to roll her eyes since she was pressed against him the same way she had been when he'd pulled her against his side earlier while he was tormenting her.

"Just tell me please," Hermione said softly, offering him her ear so he could whisper to her.

He stayed silent and when Hermione glanced at him again, she could see the stubborn set of his jaw. Gritting her teeth, Hermione leant in closer to him, her face very close to his as she pressed her palm gently against his chest. Beneath her hand she could feel his heart hammering out an unsteady beat.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his hand seizing hold of her shoulder and trying to tug her backwards and away from him a little.

"Touching you," Hermione replied "You and I are expected to have several kids together, so you better get used to it."

He scowled at her.

"Oh for crying out loud Malfoy, just tell me what it is! I already know you were a Death Eater and pureblood elitist who enjoyed bullying others and almost killed two of my friends in an attempt to kill Dumbledore. How much worse could it really be?" Hermione snapped, losing her patience with him.

His expression darkened considerably as Hermione reminded him of his past transgressions. His hand on her shoulder tightened even more while Hermione tried to ignore the biting grip and apparent strength behind it as he used his grip on her to tug her around against him. Hermione grit her teeth as he turned her all the way round in her chair until she was looking over her own right shoulder, her hand still pressed against his chest. With his arm too tight around her shoulders pulling her to him like that, Hermione could just imagine it probably looked like he'd pull her against his chest in a hug.

She felt him bury his face in her hair until his lips brushed against her ear, his grip tightening a little more as he took a deep breath in. Hermione held her breath as she waited for him to tell her what it was and she was surprised by the anticipation she felt. Of course that was mostly her hope at the idea of him being infertile or something and so meaning that she wouldn't ever have to sleep with him, but Hermione suspected she wasn't going to be that lucky.

"You and I need to see the Ministry because I fall into the category of individuals with a contagious genetic condition that could be passed on to my spouse or children." He whispered against her ear, and Hermione felt herself deflate a little to know he was still fertile, before she tensed again at the idea of possibly catching something from him.

"The one most at risk is you, Granger" he added before she could pull away "Because you're about to marry a werewolf."


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey everyone. I'm so overwhelmed by the response to this fic. Thanks so much for your love and support. You totally make my day with your reviews. I'm glad you all liked the plot twist and I hope you enjoy the many more to come =) Much Love! xx-Kitten**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Hermione sighed and she felt the way Malfoy reacted as she all but relaxed into him. She could tell he was waiting for her to recoil in horror or disgust the way he probably would've had their places been reversed. For the briefest moments Hermione allowed herself to relax against his chest, the left side of her torso pressed against his, his arm around her shoulders. She tried to ignore the sharp citrus scent of his skin which she had no doubt she would get used to smelling for the rest of her life and Hermione took a moment as she had the thought to let the reality of her situation sink in.

She was going to marry him. Albeit unwillingly, but still, she would do so. For the rest of her life she would be Mrs Hermione Malfoy. All of her children would bear his name, just as she would, and they would all be of his seed. For the rest of her life she would be expected to wake up next to him every day. They would have to confer on names of the children they had no choice but to birth, and on how to raise and discipline those children. They would share a home and a life. Every day he would be there, a permanent fixture in in her life, inescapable and probably insufferable.

Against her better judgement, Hermione took a slow deep breath in, letting the scent of him permeate her citrus with an undercurrent of something sweet that reminded her of caramel filled her nose and Hermione was surprised by how much she liked the combination.

"Did you faint?" he asked her in a low voice and Hermione could tell that he believed she must have since she was so relaxed and calm whilst leaning against him with his arm around her given what he'd just told her.

"No, I didn't faint," Hermione replied softly.

"Then what are you doing? I just told you I'm a werewolf. That doesn't seem conducive to laying all over me," he growled into her ear.

Hermione chuckled the tiniest bit as she used her hand on his chest to lean away from him slowly.

"I thought you were going to tell me something important," Hermione told him as she pulled away from him, "Like that there was some genetic mutation in your family that would result in any children we have being born with some extra toes or that you secretly suffer infertility."

"Oh and I suppose you don't think that the possibility of any children we're forced to have inheriting my curse is anything to worry about?" He snarled, looking severely pissed off now.

Hermione rolled her eyes and let him catch her doing so.

"Merlin, Malfoy it's like you know nothing," She told him scornfully, "I work in the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures Department for the Ministry."

"So?"

"So we don't need to set up a meeting with the ministry since we'd be directed straight to my department on the matter. Where someone like me would tell you that there is no need for alarm and that you and I don't qualify at all as being in any way exempt because your extenuating circumstance will have no bearing whatsoever on you and I marrying and birthing an army of little Malfoy's," She told him.

He stared at her with raised eyebrows for a straight minute in silence.

"If I ask nicely," he began, smirking a little when he saw her scoff at the very idea of him being capable of doing anything nicely, "Will you refrain from ever calling any children you and I have to have, an "_Army of little Malfoy's_", ever again?"

Hermione started to giggle just the tiniest bit.

"Maybe," she told him, "But you'll have to ask really nicely. And by my standards of nice. Not yours."

He smirked at her.

"Please?" he offered very softly and Hermione stared at him in surprise, realising that for him that was probably particularly nice indeed. It occurred to her in passing that she was going to have to revaluate her standards of niceness and politeness and a lot of other things if she was going to put up with him for the rest of her life. Especially since they very clearly had such differing personalities.

"I don't want to live in Malfoy Manor," she told him seriously, choosing not to comment on his politeness.

"You have to," he told her.

"But, don't your rules say that you're simply on house arrest? That could mean any place of residence."

He smirked again, "No, the ruling specifically says 'place of residence at Malfoy Manor' since they knew we'd never move house."

Hermione bit her lip, looking down at her lap and trying to think of some way that she could avoid having to live in the house where she'd been tortured. She could feel him watching her as she thought about it.

"Granger," her began softly and Hermione lifted her eyes to meet his, "You won't be anywhere near _that_ room. It's in my Father's wing of the Manor, which you will never enter."

Hermione stared at him in surprise to hear him actually speaking in a soothing, civil tone and not rubbing in the fact that she'd been tortured by his Aunt in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor.

"Why won't I?" she asked uncertainly.

"Because it's his wing. And because you'll be moving into my wing of the Manor. I doubt that you'd want to go anywhere near my parent's wing, given the history."

Hermione nodded slowly, realising that she wouldn't have a choice in the matter and that she could possibly be ok with having to live there if she could stay away from that room.

"You'll have your own room too," Malfoy added quietly, still watching her. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It says here that we have to share," Hermione told him, pointing at the Marriage Act in his hand where it said they would have to share a bed.

"For your free time Granger," he smirked at her now, looking amused by her puzzled expression, "You'll have a room to yourself in the Manor to use during your free time for whatever you wish, and for storing what I have no doubt will be an ungodly amount of books."

Startled, Hermione stared at him, raising her eyebrows slowly. He looked amused now.

"Granger, just because we don't particularly like each other, doesn't mean you and I know nothing about one another," he pointed out quietly, "So there's no need to look surprised that I know you have an extensive book collection, not to mention a cat you'll need to accommodate. And I'm telling you right now that the ugly orange ball of fur you call a cat will not be living in the room you and I will share. It can sleep in your personal room."

"Don't say rude things about Crookshanks," Hermione admonished, frowning at him as she defended her pet.

"It really doesn't bother you at all that I'm a werewolf, does it?" he asked her instead of commenting further about Crookshanks, and Hermione noticed the way he sounded surprised and a little disbelieving.

Hermione stared at him for a moment.

"I don't care that you're a werewolf, Malfoy. Given the turn of events, learning that you're a werewolf is probably one of the better things I've heard today, to be honest."

"You're not worried I'll turn on you or that any children we have to have will be werewolves too?"

Hermione looked at him speculatively. If he hadn't told her, she'd have had no idea he was a werewolf. He didn't look the way Remus had. His clothes weren't shabby, but that was no doubt due to him already being rich and so not having to worry about finding employment with his condition. He wasn't covered in scars either, making her suspect that he must take the Wolfsbane potion to keep his mind at the full moon and so not attack himself out of boredom.

"Werewolfry isn't genetic Malfoy," Hermione told him, "So no, I'm not worried that our kids will be werewolves. The curse isn't inherited, so unless you were to bite the children - which I would kill you for – they won't suffer your condition."

"And what about you?" he asked, smirking now, "What if I transform and take a bite out of you, making you a werewolf too?"

"That won't be happening because I won't be anywhere near you on the full moon," Hermione told him.

"That didn't help my mother when father took a bite out of her," Malfoy told her and Hermione felt her eyes widen in surprise.

"You're all werewolves?" Hermione asked him quietly, glancing around in surprise.

"No," he replied truthfully, "My mother's not. Father was still human when he bit her, so she just has a few lupine traits."

"But you and Lucius both are?"

Draco nodded his head affirmatively. Hermione sighed.

"Can I ask how that came to be?" she asked him levelly, fully prepared to have him tell her to stuff off.

"Punishment," Malfoy replied sourly and without preamble, "Father and I were both bitten as a form of punishment for failing the Dark Lord. Father for failing to obtain the prophecy about the Dark Lord and Potter; and me for failing to kill Dumbledore myself."

"Was it Greyback?" Hermione asked softly, surprised that he'd actually told her. He nodded.

Hermione nodded too, unsurprised that the twisted wizard they had defeated would punish his soldiers in such a way. After that they sat awkwardly in silence for several long minutes. Hermione listened to the other couples in the room as they made small talk and awkwardly stared at their new spouse.

Across the room she could see Harry and Tracy Davis attempting to make small talk. Tracy at least had managed to paste a pretty smile on her face and seemed ready to accept this whole arranged and forced marriage kafuffle with calm sophistication. Harry on the other hand looked awkward and somewhat uncomfortable, though he seemed to be trying to overcome it in favour of making sure he wouldn't be miserable with her for the rest of his life. Hermione studied them, knowing that Harry was always awkward around girls except her since to him Hermione might as well have been a lamp or some other non-sexual entity. Hermione didn't mind, since she considered Harry the closest thing she'd ever had to having a brother. Tracy was a very pretty witch, with long hair the colour of rich caramel. It hung in cute looking beach waves, perfectly framing her heart shaped face and making her brown eyes pop. Hermione suspected her beauty might be part of the reason Harry was so unsettled around Tracy.

Hermione shifted her gaze around the room, spotting Rolf and Luna animatedly discussing something. From the passionate glow in Luna's eyes Hermione could only assume it had something to do with magical creatures that debatably existed. When her gaze landed on Ron and Pansy Hermione felt sympathy for her dear friend and ex-boyfriend.

"That's not going to be an easy arrangement," Hermione murmured softly to herself.

"Pansy won't make it easy," she heard Malfoy comment from next to her and Hermione glanced at him with her eyebrows raised, surprised he'd commented since she didn't think he'd still been paying attention to her.

"I don't know which one of them I feel sorrier for, to be honest," Hermione told him truthfully, glancing back at Ron and Pansy.

They were both just sitting there next to each other awkwardly. Both staring off in different directions, both scowling. Ron's ears had turned red. Hermione wondered if it was from anger or embarrassment. Pansy seemed to have brought her crying under control but she looked no less pleased about the situation and kept glancing around as though she was desperately hoping someone would jump out shouting "April Fool" so that she could just go home.

"Weasley," Malfoy said as though she'd asked him a question rather than offering an opinion, "Feel sorriest for Weasley. I mean, feel bad for Parkinson because she's going to have to learn to deal with the Weasel's bad manners, disgusting eating habits and general lack of tact, not to mention have to have kids with him when she hates him so much…. But I think I feel worse for Weasley. Pansy would never have been an easy witch to marry, even if it was someone she adored; but with him…. I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to poison him, honestly."

Hermione felt a stab of worry for Ron before remembering that there were now enchantments in place to keep them all from being able to kill each other to escape these marriage arrangements.

"Ron won't be any easier to live with," Hermione confided, "He can be impossibly childish and contrary when he doesn't get his way and I get the feeling Parkinson won't ever let him have his way without a fight."

"She would… if he wasn't Weasley. She's a pushover if you know how to manipulate her, but I'm not sure Weasley will be smart enough to outwit her and cut her off in her arguments before she gets into one of her tirades. They're so impossibly long-winded and boring that he'll give in to her just to get her to shut it." Malfoy said, glancing at her with a smirk and Hermione felt herself startle just the tiniest bit to realise they'd managed to have a civil conversation with one another. Even if it was about poor Ron's misfortune of having to marry the pug-faced, nasty girl they'd been to Hogwarts with.

Letting her gaze stray from Ron and Pansy, Hermione caught sight of Ginny and Blaise and raised her eyebrows. They were both still sitting stiffly, sneaking glances at each other but not speaking. Ginny didn't look terrified anymore, though she still looked somewhat unnerved by the handsome wizard sitting beside her.

"Do you know anything about why Ginny and Blaise are acting so strangely around one another?" Hermione ventured softly, somewhat intrigued about whether or not Malfoy was going to continue to be civil in spite of his earlier words against just that.

"You mean besides the fact that they've just be told they have to marry each other or suffer into eternity?" He replied sarcastically and Hermione was surprised at herself when she couldn't help but chuckle self-deprecatingly.

"I do actually. Ginny's usually fearless and definitely not afraid to speak her mind, but when they read out her name as being paired with Zabini…. She was terrified. Did Blaise do or say something to her that I don't know about that would make her fear him?"

"So you admit there are things that even a know-it-all like you doesn't know?" he grinned nastily and Hermione turned a narrowed gaze on him.

"If and when there ever are, I can assure you, I rectify the situation quickly," she replied shortly.

Malfoy laughed and shook his head though he looked amused rather than disgusted.

"I don't know what their issue is, but Zabini and the Weaselette have always acted oddly around one another. Do you remember the time at Hogwarts when he called her attractive?"

Hermione thought about it a moment, "He followed the admission rather quickly with an insult about her being a blood traitor."

"Maybe they secretly fancy each other," Malfoy offered and Hermione snuck a glance at him to see him staring at Ginny and Blaise, gaze slightly narrowed as though he was trying to discern from their body language alone what their secrets were.

"It just seems peculiar to me that they would act so strangely. Zabini's not that bad from what I've heard and what I remember; and I don't remember a time he was ever prejudiced or rude to Ginny other than that one time. Even then the rudeness was softened by the fact that he also complimented her in the same sentence. It's not as though they have any reason to be nervous or afraid of each other as far as I can see, beyond the forced marriage issue…. They don't even have reason not to like each other. I mean, Ron and Pansy being so awkward makes sense because they have a long history of fighting, hatred and nastiness directed at one another..."

"Like you and I do you mean," Malfoy dropped into the conversation.

"Well, yes. You and I also have a nasty history. One that's even more colourful than that of Ron and Parkinson, since I'm unaware of a time she ever punched him in the face or he ever wished for her death in front of the entire school…. But Ginny and Zabini don't have a history like that…. I just don't understand why they're acting so strangely."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy and was surprised to see that he was smirking

"Imagine what they're saying about you and me," he smirked even wider.

"They're probably wondering what change of heart you've had over the past two years that led to you apologise to me and to suggest that we forget out differences," Hermione smirked back, reminding him of the way she'd lied to the entire room about what he'd whispered to her.

"I'm going to get you for that you know," He informed her calmly.

Hermione snorted, "What are you going to do? Marry me?"

Hermione didn't know which one of them was more surprised when Malfoy let loose a hearty laugh.

It was a strange thing, Hermione thought, that just that morning she'd gotten up and had a lovely pancake breakfast with Harry and the Weasleys at the Burrow.

It seemed like a million years ago and another lifetime that she'd worried this morning about whether or not she should bring a book to this meeting to make sure she wouldn't get bored. Hermione felt like laughing and crying at the same time to realise she was far from bored now. She was terrified, outraged and somewhat embarrassed by this whole ordeal. Just this morning she'd been a single, free young witch with a bright future who only very occasionally daydreamed about the idea of meeting a handsome wizard and being completely swept off her feet by him.

Unlike many witches, Hermione wasn't that concerned by the way hopes and dreams of a handsome, doting, loving husband had been dashed. On a subconscious level she'd always known that the 'Prince Charming' fantasy was just that, a hopeless daydream that had little to no chance of ever becoming a reality. That was perhaps the only thing keeping her from exploding into a rage. The fact that she was something of a cynic regarding love and romance. Glancing at Malfoy out the corner of her eye Hermione could just tell she definitely wouldn't be getting that in this lifetime.

"You're likely to wind up like my mother, you know," he spoke quietly and seriously without turning his head to look at her, though Hermione caught the way his eyes flicked to her and away again to make sure she was actually paying attention and hadn't regressed into a daydream where this entire morning was nothing but a horrid nightmare she was waiting to wake up from.

"Bitter and pinched?" Hermione blurted sardonically before realising what she'd said. She cleared her throat beneath his irritated glare.

"No. You're likely gain a few lupine traits, like preferring your meat a little rare and enjoying running more than you used to," he elaborated.

"And why would I do that? I have no intention of letting you bite me, ever, no matter what form you might be taking. I would like to think too that you have no intention of doing so, since I suspect such an act would result in me hurting you," She told him seriously, giving him a hard stare.

"It wouldn't be on purpose," he replied, looking downright grumpy now, "But that doesn't mean it won't happen, especially given the… erm… expectation that you and I…. erm…. Participate in the traditional…"

"Don't say it," Hermione warned him, her eyes widening as she realised what he was getting at with the stuttering, though not why he was bringing _that_ up in the first place. She didn't even want to think about the fact that they were going to have to have sex at some stage.

"Anyway, I've found I have a tendency to erm… snap at things and uh… bite things when I'm er…. Excitable," Malfoy said, pausing often as he searched for ways to best express himself. Hermione was surprised by the way the pink shade of his cheeks in his embarrassment made him look much handsomer than he did when he was just pale and scowling. She stared at him for a long moment, kind of enjoying the way he squirmed just the tiniest bit beneath her direct gaze after such an admission.

"I'm aware of some of the peculiar ticks that individuals with your condition develop Malfoy, it's a part of my job to know such things and to meet regularly with werewolves about certain issues. In fact I met with a couple just last month who were concerned because the wife who happened to be a werewolf, was concerned about her husband. She'd accidentally nipped him when they were in bed together and hadn't thought anything of it since she was obviously human at the time. She became concerned when she came home to find he'd raided their freezer. She found him stretched out on the floor in the living room with a book in one hand and gnawing on a semi-defrosted raw steak from the other."

"I'm just warning you that it's a possibility," he held up his hands as though warding off any further discussion on the matter.

"It's not a possibility because if you even get close to me with those teeth I'll smack you," Hermione informed him.

Malfoy smirked and Hermione couldn't help staring at the fact that his teeth were a little sharper and more lethal looking than those of regular wizards.

"You and I have to have several children together Granger," he parroted her words from earlier, "You're going to have to get used to me touching you."

"I'd rather not discuss it," Hermione told him bluntly, "It's bad enough that at some stage in the next month you and I are going to have to…. But let's not mention it or even think about it until it becomes necessary, shall we?"

"You mean necessary like when we're going to have to go to St. Mungo's together and let the healers there test our fertility and toy with the hormone balance inside our bodies so that whether we can even tolerate each other or not, we're going to want to shag?" Malfoy supplied helpfully, an evil gleam in his gaze.

Hermione could just tell he enjoyed the way her whole body jerked subconsciously at the very idea and at hearing the word.

"I think you were right," Hermione told him, "Civility between you and I isn't going to be an option if you're going to go around saying things like that."

"You a prude Granger?" Malfoy smirked now.

"No I am not a prude. But given that I don't particularly like you as a person in general, let alone fancy you, I'm not comfortable discussing anything that calls for the word 'shagging' with you," Hermione replied coldly.

Malfoy chuckled nastily.

"Like I said, when this lot are done with us, it won't matter if you still hate my guts, you're going to want to shag me until neither one of us can see straight."

Hermione glared at him for a moment before replying, "You do realise that when they toy with our hormones, you're going to want to shag me too, right? Probably even more than I'll want to given the… animal instincts…. You'll be dealing with."

Hermione felt slightly better when Malfoy lost his smirk.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

They'd finally been dismissed and told they could go on home. They'd also been told that they should expect an owl no later than one week from now in regard to their 'couples appointment' at St. Mungo's. Hermione got to her feet, glancing at her new fiancé as he too got to his feet. Standing so close to him Hermione became aware of the fact that Draco Malfoy was taller than her by about half a foot. He didn't seem concerned by her close proximity either and Hermione wondered if the lack of personal boundaries was linked to his lupine attributes.

It was common, she knew, that werewolves were often considered a little odd by the rest of wizardkind because they developed some strange personality quirks that set them apart.

"How are your parents going to take it to hear you're engaged Granger?" he asked.

Hermione tried not to wince at the mention of her parents. She'd been unable to undo the memory modifications she'd performed on them during the war and so they had no idea she even existed.

"Erm… I don't have parents… anymore," Hermione said softly, looking down at her feet.

"Oh," was all he said in reply.

Not really knowing what else to say to him and wanting to just get away so she could brood about this morbid turn her life had taken, Hermione gave a jerky nod and turned away from him, walking away quickly and heading for the exit. Her eyes scanned the crowd for signs of her friends and she caught sight of both Harry and Ron making their way towards the exit. Ginny was walking awkwardly next to Zabini and Hermione noticed again the way they both looked incredibly uncomfortable being anywhere near each other.

Hermione jumped in surprise when she felt strong hands grip her hips from behind moments before she stepped off the bottom step. Even as she was jerked back against someone's chest Hermione felt her breath catch as someone rushed by, bumping into people and unapologetically shoving others out of her way.

Hermione cleared her throat as she watched Pansy Parkinson rush past while Hermione herself was suddenly standing with her back pressed against Malfoy's front. His hands still gripped her hips and she was surprised by the way he held onto her firmly but not hard enough to hurt her or cause her any discomfort.

"Erm..." Hermione began as the lemony scent of him wrapped around her. Before she could say anything else Malfoy released her just as quickly as he'd caught her and she found herself wondering if it was simply by reflex that he'd caught her and jerked her back so that she wouldn't have stepped into Pansy's rampaging path, or if he had seen the danger and acted to protect her from it. It wouldn't be all that uncommon, since he'd just been told that she was to be his wife for the rest of their lives and werewolves were notoriously protective of their spouses, family members and friends. Much like their full-blooded lupine counterparts, the werewolf protected it's pack at any cost.

Choosing not to comment on it but storing the information away in her brain, Hermione continued to make her way towards the exit. It became somewhat difficult given the fact that the family and friends of the unlucky 230 people who'd been paired off today were all waiting right outside the doors of the conference hall to ambush their respective people with questions and expressions of outrage or sympathy.

Hermione bit her lip as she caught sight of Mrs Weasley crying softly while Harry and Ron stood awkwardly before her. George and Angelina were there too, but they were holding hands and looked rather pleased with the turn of events that meant they would be getting married to one another rather than to anyone else of a less appealing nature. She could tell that no one had told the Weasley's about Ginny's pairing with Zabini or about Hermione's pairing with Malfoy because they simply looked sad and a little sympathetic. She could even see the way Molly narrowed her gaze whilst sobbing harder as Ginny moved over in front of her parents and awkwardly introduced Blaise to them. Making her way through the crowd slowly, Hermione could see the stiff way Mr Weasley offered his hand to Blaise to shake.

All around the room people were crying and shouting, protesting loudly as they learned the fate of their loved ones. Hermione had to jerk back when an irate wizard with a thick black beard and an unfriendly expression began yelling and hurling curses towards the Wizengamot who had just emerged from the conference hall. She could feel someone behind her and she didn't even have to look to know it was Malfoy. She could hear his low growl in her ear and he'd once again wrapped his hands around her hips so that he'd be able to manipulate her out of harm's way if he felt the need. Things began to get out of hand rather quickly and Hermione squeaked in surprise when Malfoy used his grip on her to swing her away from the scene that involved the irate bearded man being brought under control by the ministry staff.

"What is this?" She heard a cold and unnervingly familiar voice demand and Hermione cursed to realise that by swinging her away from the duel, Malfoy had brought Hermione face to face with the last people she wanted to see at that particular moment, or at any moment at all really.

Mr and Mrs Malfoy glared their hatred at her while Hermione tried to subtly elbow Malfoy to get him to let go of her and to step back so that she wasn't pressed against him.

"Meet your new daughter-in-law," Malfoy drawled to his parents without letting go of her or stepping away from her.

"You must be joking Draco?" Mr Malfoy said, curling his lip in disgust as he glared at Hermione.

"Tell me you're joking sweetheart," Mrs Malfoy demanded of her son.

"It's not a joke. Per Ministry order I'm to marry her," Malfoy replied and Hermione could hear the mingling irritation and amusement in his tone. She could tell he was enjoying making both her and his parents squirm at the introduction.

"They expect you to marry a muggle-born?" Mrs Malfoy demanded, looking utterly horrified.

"Yes, and if any of us try to do a thing about it I'm likely to wind up on my death-bed. So's Granger," Malfoy told his parents and Hermione found herself wondering how he could sound calm about it. Before anyone could respond to his words he added, "And if either of you try to do anything to her to wiggle us out of this situation, you'll most likely end up rather ill yourself. That means you too Father."

Hermione felt a strange feeling wash through her as she realised that the senior Mr Malfoy had just jerked his wand free of the walking stick he stored it inside, no doubt with the intention of trying to hex her or curse her to free his son from the ministry approved arrangement.

"There must be some way out of this," Mrs Malfoy said, sounding like she actually believed it. In response Hermione watched Draco hand his mother a copy of the Marriage Act.

Both of his parents read it in silence.

"Would you let me go?" Hermione hissed, growing impatient with his grip on her while his parents continued to ignore her existence.

"Now Granger," he growled softly in her ear in a tone that made it sound more like a purr, "You're going to have to get used to having my hands on you."

Hermione bit her lip on a nasty retort when he proceeded to let his hands glide over her hips and across her stomach until he was effectively hugging her from behind. She stomped on his foot in retaliation but Malfoy didn't release her. Realising that he was once again trying to get a rise out of her and have her cause a scene, Hermione went ramrod stiff and tried to ignore the fact that it had been a while since anyone had held her in such a way. She pretended not to notice when she felt and heard him take a deep breath in through his nose, effectively sniffing her in an attempt to freak her out.

She refused to let him rattle her. In her office she dealt with the strange and disturbing behaviours of other magical races frequently and so having one werewolf sniffing her in an attempt to annoy her was nothing out of the ordinary for Hermione Granger.

"What is this?" Malfoy's mother demanded, pointing to the Act before reading "_**The Minimum of Four Births Decree – which hereby finds that any and all married couples still capable of bearing children are bound to a minimum of four live births. Families unable to effectively provide for such a large number may apply to the Ministry for monetary assistance."**_

"I would think it rather obvious," Hermione replied in the same snotty type of tone that Narcissa had used, "It means that if you are still capable of bearing children – meaning that if you have yet to reach a menopausal stage – you and Mr Malfoy are expected to try to conceive to have three additional children beyond the toe-rag trying to annoy me currently."

"They can't be serious," Mr Malfoy growled and Hermione caught the flash of werewolf gold in his usually grey eyes.

"How can they expect us to try to have more children when they've just decreed our son has to marry a muggle-born -effectively sullying the only remaining pure bloodline- and begin having children of his own? Have the Wizengamot gone mad? They expect me to have more children when my son is about to be forced into giving me grandchildren?"

"It gets better," Malfoy drawled and Hermione felt a rush of relief flow through her when he released his hold on her. His parents had both begun to glare at him for hugging her and since Hermione had refused to react, it just made him look like he fancied her.

"The Ministry have decreed that all forms of contraception have been disabled, and that every married and engaged couple is to attend an appointment at the Ministry where we'll all be receiving fertility treatment to ensure maximum reproduction capability."

"Surely there must be some way we can get around this," Narcissa said, "Wait, here it is!"

Hermione listened feeling a mixture of bitterness and morbid fascination as Mrs Malfoy read out the part about the extenuating circumstances that might prevent them from having to have more children.

"No such luck," Malfoy told his parents, "The know-it-all here informs me that werewolfry isn't genetic and therefore doesn't count as being cause for dismissal or excusal from the Act."

"Is this true?" Mr Malfoy demanded and Hermione raised her eyebrows when she realised he was asking her.

She'd been expecting that they would curse and whine about her being their future daughter-in-law but as of yet other than some nasty glares and references to her heritage, none of the Malfoy's had spoken a word against her.

"Yes. As werewolves, you and Draco would be directed to someone in my Department of the Ministry, where someone like me would inform you that being a werewolf will not excuse you from the Act. The risk of passing on the curse is slim to none since you're offspring can't catch the werewolf condition unless you bite them in werewolf form during the full moon…. There is a slight chance that they would be born a little like Mrs Malfoy here, a little lupine in some traits but otherwise unaffected. After all, if you can pass that on via saliva, or venom or whatever you want to call it, I can only assume that other - shall we say 'bodily fluids'?- would pass on the lupine attributes. Teddy Lupin was born a little bit werewolf with a liking for rare steak, but he's not the best example since he's also a Metamorphagus like Tonks was."

Neither of the Malfoy's looked pleased by her words, or by the mention of Narcissa's niece and great-nephew.

"Believe me, I would very much enjoy the idea of being exempted from this stupid law on the grounds of Malfoy being a werewolf, but it's unfortunately not a possibility. I wouldn't be surprised if the Wizengamot purposely paired me with you actually, since I'm one of the few people unlikely to fear you for your condition," Hermione said, glancing at Malfoy who was now standing beside her looking irritable.

"And they expect us to have more children?" Narcissa demanded, "I'm forty-seven, for Merlin's sake!"

"Think of it this way," Hermione said, pasting a falsely sweet smile on her face and peering at the elder Mr &amp; Mrs Malfoy, "You'll have the chance to birth three additional pureblood heirs that won't go sullying your perfectly pure bloodlines by marrying and reproducing with a muggle-born."

Malfoy scowled at her when he realised she was implying that it was in some way his fault that his forced marriage to her would dilute their long-pure bloodline. Mr Malfoy looked somewhat mollified by the idea of having children that might be capable of passing on the Malfoy name with other purebloods instead of a muggle-born, and Narcissa looked sour about the idea of having more children when she had a twenty-one year old son.

Before Hermione could say anything else, she was suddenly swamped by Weasleys. Mrs Weasley threw her arms around Hermione, sobbing into Hermione's shoulder while Mr Weasley looked at Hermione apologetically and tried to console his wife whilst surreptitiously attempting to peel her off Hermione. The Malfoy's looked horrified to be suddenly surrounded by red-haired Weasleys, and Hermione didn't miss the way both Harry and Ron advanced on Draco quickly.

She didn't know if she should feel better or worse about the entire situation when she heard Ron proclaim that if Draco mistreated her or hurt her feelings or even so much as looked at her funny, Ron was going to use some colourful sounding skills he and Harry had learned about in Auror training to make sure Malfoy would never sit comfortably again for the rest of his days.

"Oh Hermione you poor dear, married off to that awful boy!" Mrs Weasley sobbed and Hermione caught the affronted look on Narcissa Malfoy's face at the insult of her son.

"Crying won't help, you stupid woman," Mr Malfoy growled and Hermione didn't miss the flash of lupine gold in his grey eyes.

"It will be alright Mrs Weasley," Hermione assured the sobbing woman who had tried her hardest to fill the void left by Hermione's mother, "He can't be all bad."

The wicked look on Malfoy's face suggested otherwise, but Hermione pretended not to see him as Mr Weasley finally managed to peel his wife off Hermione.

"Come on, let's get out of here before they can do something awful like tell us we all also have to be micro-chipped the way muggles do to their pets so they can bring us back if we ever try to run away," Ginny told her.

"Where's Blaise?" Hermione asked her, noting the way Ginny's ears turned red at his mention. She waved her arm dismissively. Even as she did so, Hermione felt a sharp pang in her temple as a sudden headache struck her with a nauseating idea and realisation.

"Would you mind fetching him? There's something we all need to talk about…" Hermione said to her friends, seeing Harry and Ron joining them, "You two as well, if you can find them, could you please bring Tracy and Pansy over here for a few minutes?"

"What are you doing Granger?" Malfoy asked her, looking grumpy again.

"I need to talk to you," Hermione said, grasping his arm and hauling him away from the Weasleys and his parents for a moment while her friends silently, if quizzically did as she asked.

"What?" he demanded.

"The full moon was last week," Hermione told him. Malfoy glared down at her.

"Is there something about me being a werewolf that suggests I might be able to forget when the full moon is Granger?" he replied drolly.

"And that means that three weeks from now, you're going to be a werewolf again, just after we've been told that we have to be married within the month and then spend a two week honeymoon where we are unable to contact anyone but each other…"

"So?"

"So they aren't going to let you be alone with me because the charms they've used to keep us from killing each other are probably weakened when you transform and they have no way to guarantee that you've been taking the Wolfsbane Potion every day for the whole month. They won't risk having you kill me on our honeymoon."

"You're about to say something I'm really not going to like, aren't you Granger?" he sighed.

Hermione nodded.

"We're going to have to be married no later than next Friday," Hermione told him.

"And that concerns the rest of your friends how?"

"Well, arranged and unwanted or not, I'd like to have Harry, Ron and Ginny at my wedding. And I'm sure you'd like to have Zabini and Parkinson and Goyle and the rest of them at your wedding too…"

Draco stared down at her now, his eyes hardening.

"That will be difficult if we're all married on different dates and have to go on honeymoons and not contact each other."

"You're going to suggest some kind of bloody group thing, aren't you?" he growled, looking entirely disgusted.

"Yes. And since we have to be married by next week…. If they're to have us at their weddings, they have to be married by next week too. They're all going to want to know why…"

"Bloody hell," Malfoy snarled low and much more animalistic than Hermione had ever heard anyone other than Remus growl anything.

"What did you need us to drag them over for Hermione?" Harry asked her, butting into the conversation she was having with Malfoy as though he could tell Malfoy was likely to lose his temper with her.

"I'd like all of you at my wedding, and to be able to attend each of your weddings as well," Hermione began, "With the honeymoon restrictions that's not going to be possible unless we do some kind of group ceremony."

"Oh Hermione, you're a genius!" Ginny cried, throwing her arms around her, "I was just wondering how we could all be at each other's without breaking the rules and falling into our death-beds."

"You really expect all us to want to get married with you?" Pansy asked snottily, coming up next to Draco.

"I expect you don't want to get married at all, why would you care if you have a group ceremony or one with just you and Ron?" Hermione replied tartly.

Pansy looked furious.

"Does anyone object to the idea?" Hermione asked, noticing that Goyle and Millicent Bullstrode had waddled over to listen as well, and so had George and Angelina along with Neville and Hannah, and Luna and Newt.

"None of us are particularly happy about the idea and I don't see why we should make it worse by not all going to each other's ceremonies and receptions. One last hurrah to get sloshed together," George cut into the conversation, looking somewhat pleased by the idea.

Everyone else made noises of agreement and Hermione snuck a glance at Malfoy, waiting for him to give her some sort of signal that he wouldn't tear her head off.

"There's just one problem…." Hermione began when he scowled but gave her a curt nod, "To have me and Malfoy at the group ceremony, we'd all have to be married before next Friday…."

"What?"

"Why?"

"You want to get married even sooner than we have to?

"Have you lost your mind?"

Came the replies and Hermione sighed.

"To be married within the allowed month, and allowing for the length of this stupid two week honeymoon they're imposing on us…." Hermione trailed off, glancing at Malfoy again even as she saw the light go on with Blaise, Pansy and Goyle. She realised they must know about his condition. Goyle especially since he'd been a Death Eater too.

"We have to allow the time for those two weeks to fall before the next full moon," Malfoy picked up the conversation drily, looking frustrated.

Hermione sighed in annoyance when both Harry and Ron continued to look bewildered.

"Malfoy's a werewolf," she told them when they took too long working it out.

Hermione was surprised by the reactions from the people in the group around them. Millicent Bullstrode took what looked to be an involuntary step backwards, putting some distance between herself and Malfoy. Angelina paled considerably. Tracy frowned. Hannah let out a soft shriek of shock and Neville gasped. Ginny, Harry, Ron and George (who were all used to werewolves after so long spent with Remus) looked at Malfoy somewhat pityingly and Hermione noticed the angry flash in Malfoy's eyes when he saw they were pitying him. Rolf and Luna both peered at him in fascination, as though they might like to pull his hair and study him like any other Magical creature.

Pansy, Blaise and Goyle didn't react at all. Their faces remained impassive and stoic as though they were well schooled to keep themselves from reacting in any way that might be taken as offensive by Malfoy.

"Oh," Harry said finally, "Well, that complicates things… No later than next Friday, you said?"

Hermione nodded.

"Well, I'm sure we could pull something together by then. I get the feeling the Ministry expects the most trouble from us, so I'm sure they'd be more than willing to assist in pulling everything together to see all of us married by then for one large ceremony," Ginny said reasonably moving right along with the conversation.

Hermione noticed the way Malfoy looked surprised for just a moment at their easy acceptance.

"It would seem then, that we ladies need to sort out dresses and things, and the boys need to be fitted for their dress robes too. We ought to notify the Ministry right away. Are we all agreed to have the ceremony next Friday?"

There were general nods of agreement and Hermione sighed softly, pleased that if they had to all be getting married, they would at least be there for each other.

"Excellent, well then let's find one of those Wizengamot wankers and let them know. This isn't going to be easy to orchestrate, so if anyone has any suggestions on a location that we can all agree to that will allow for hosting such a large group ceremony and the extended relatives and friends of all of us in this ceremony that would be ideal."

Everyone was quiet for a while, the boys looking bewildered.

"Well I always thought I'd get married in the garden at the Burrow," Ginny said, "But it's just not big enough…"

"I wanted to get married in the Forest of Dean," Hermione murmured, remembering one of the few solid ideas she'd had for ever marrying, "But that's impractical for a large group."

"What about the gardens at Malfoy Manor?" Luna asked dreamily, "Surely they'd be big enough and it's a well-known location. I expect that some of the pureblood families would object to attending anywhere else."

Everyone turned to look at Malfoy. He scowled at them all and shrugged, "I'll ask mother, but I suspect she'll say that if we try to have this stupid wedding anywhere else she'll kill us all."

"Well that's settled then. What about colours? Boys, you probably don't care about this, but ladies, we're all going to have to decide on something…. I would personally like to recommend silver as one of the colours because it does literally go with everything," Tracy said, taking charge of the planning, "Does anyone object to silver?"

The girls all looked at one another. For Ginny, with her red hair, the colour wasn't ideal, but it was better than most colours.

"Silver would be alright…. But silver and what?"

"Silver goes well with green," Pansy threw in slyly.

"Don't be unfair Pansy, we're not all having a Slytherin-colours themed wedding." Tracy said.

"We all have the right skin tone to pull off a shade of plum or mauve," Hannah suggested.

"Let's not forget that we'll all be wearing wedding dresses so it will only be the flowers and decorations that need to match the colour scheme. No bridesmaid dresses…. At least not for us. And honestly, what are weddings for if not to make the bridesmaids less pretty than the bride?" Hermione asked.

They all tittered.

"She's right and frankly, most of the girls I'd have as bridesmaids will be in a wedding dress anyway," Ginny said and Hermione marvelled at how smoothly this planning was going.

"Alright then, a group wedding in the gardens at Malfoy Manor with a silver and mauve colour scheme. What's next, flowers?" Tracy said.

"Oh, Neville knows all about plants," Luna said, "What do you suggest Neville?"

"Why would he suggest flowers?" Pansy asked scathingly.

"Actually it's a good idea to have him pick the flowers since I have no doubt we all have different favourites. For example I prefers lilies and daffodils, but I know Hermione likes daisies and forget-me-nots," Ginny injected into the discussion.

"Oh I like daisies and roses," Angelina said.

"Well I like begonias and violets," Pansy cut in.

"This is why we should let Neville pick the flowers," Luna said wisely.

"Well erm…." Neville said, turning pink to be put on the spot, "I suppose you could pick something to go with the colour scheme…. Why not white roses, because they're traditional, and maybe the purple Calla Lily. They look like this."

He waved his wand, conjuring up and apparition of the flower.

"Does anyone object?" Tracy asked.

"It's not like any of us are getting the dream marriage," Pansy hissed, looking irritable, "So who cares?"

Hermione saw Ron's ear turn red, clearly taking offense to his new fiancé's words.

"I'd recommend that you be nice," Hermione replied dangerously, catching Ginny's arm as the girl attempted to hurl herself at Pansy in a rage, "Else we might find out just how strong the wards are to keep us from killing each other, Parkinson."

Hermione was fingering her wand dangerously and Ginny had hers drawn and aimed at Pansy for insulting Ron in a roundabout way.

"Easy now, ladies," Harry cut in, stepping between Ginny and Pansy, "Let's not start duels over wedding planning. It's far too cliché."

Hermione saw Pansy open her mouth to retort but Malfoy wisely stomped hard on her foot. Hard enough that Pansy cried out and had to hop as she rub the injured limb while she glared at Malfoy reproachfully.

"Anyway…." Tracy said, eyeing the exchange coolly, "We have flowers, we have a location, we have colours. This is good. I think we should all go home and write a list of our guest lists, including bridesmaids. Boys, if you have anyone you'd like standing up with you as groomsmen that won't be grooms themselves, let us know…. Hermione would you mind if we all owl our lists to you? You're probably the most organised and you'll probably be able to weed out a guest list of all the double ups."

"That would be fine."

"Oh as if she's not going to cross off people she doesn't want attending," Pansy spat.

"Don't be daft Pansy. Hermione's reliable. I expect everyone to finalise their list by no later than ten o'clock tonight, so you'd best all be prepared. Any double ups can be dealt with and Hermione, I give you full permission to send multiple howlers to anyone that hasn't owled you by ten sharp… no offense Draco."

Luna tittered at the pun when Malfoy looked confused and then affronted at the idea of being considered Hermione's howler.

"That means you too boys, scratch out a list of anyone you want at your wedding and send it to Hermione. If you don't know then have your mother's do it and send them. Tomorrow we will all meet at Diagon Alley at, shall we say eleven? The boys can be fitted for their dress robes. We ladies can find dresses if we don't already have them, and we can all decide on our own style of bridesmaid dresses. We don't want to be too matchy-matchy after all, as long as they are all the same colour it will be fine. If we have time we'll decide on the type of invitation we want unless anyone has any suggestions. They'll need to be enchanted I think, since there are quite a few names we'll be putting on them, what with all of our names not to mention the traditional idea of our parent's names too."

"Something charmed to expand to the right size to be readable perhaps, or maybe a booklet type of invitation," Hermione suggested.

"A booklet might suggest some kind of order, and that would be so tedious, imagine all of us lining us doing one ceremony after another. The guests would fall asleep. I vote an expandable invitation or something that reads the invitation to the guest when touched to allow for fine print to save on paper. We don't want something the size of a banner after all though with all the names we're going to bloody need it…"

"Do let's have the ceremony all done at the same time, we can bodge the vows so that it won't matter when all our names overlap, but let's stagger the kissing," Luna suggested.

"Whatever for?" Hermione asked her, frowning at the reminder that they would all have to kiss their new spouse.

"Oh don't be daft Hermione. I want to see you kiss Malfoy, and Neville kiss Hannah and Harry kiss Tracy and Ginny kiss Blaise and George kiss Angelina and Millicent kiss Gregory and Ron kiss Pansy. I won't be able to if I'm kissing Rolf while the rest of you are kissing each other too," She explained, looking positively delighted.

Hermione felt nauseas.

"I don't like to admit it Hermione, but you know Mum will want to see all of us taking our vows and then be able to watch all of us kiss our spouse, no matter how much she's sobbing now. She won't be able to watch you and me and Harry and Ron and George all at the same time…."

"Stagger it if you want," Pansy said sourly, "But I'm reserving the spot to go last right now."

Ron's ears turned red again.

"Then it's settled," Tracy said, "We can sort out kissing order and the order of names on the wedding invitation later. Where's one of those hatted bastards so we can announce our requirement for their photographers and caterers and monetary contributions?"

"There's one!" Ginny cried, pointing to a member of the Wizengamot.

As a group they converged on the poor woman, who looked particularly terrified to be cornered by all of them.

"Right, you," Tracy began, "You're going to need a pen and paper, we've decided we're having a group wedding. We've got all the details sorted out, so you need to note that we will all be getting married Friday the fifteenth of March 2000. You need to make some kind of public announcement that no one else can get married then since almost the entire population will be at our joint ceremony…. Unless there are any other werewolves in the Unfortunate 230. They're welcome to join our ceremony if they agree to our terms."

The woman nodded, hurried pulling out parchment and a quill and noting down their names.

"Make a note that anyone else wanting to join the group ceremony is to adhere to having a silver and mauve colour scheme, white rose and purple calla lily flowers, and a ceremony held in the gardens at Malfoy Manor. We will need photographers and caters organised, though I suspect my mother will know plenty of lovely options, Mrs Malfoy too no doubt. Or maybe Mrs Zabini, she's been married so many times I'll bet she knows a wonderful photographer…"

"She married one of them," Blaise said drily, "And now he's dead."

"Don't be morbid Blaise," Tracy scolded, "Now, if there is anyone else wanting to join our group ceremony, they are to owl a full and completed guest list to Hermione by ten sharp tonight, and to meet all of us at Diagon Alley tomorrow at eleven to get dress designs, and dress robes taken care of."

The woman wrote it all down.

"Who else would be likely to want to join such a large ceremony already?" Ginny asked, confused.

"Maybe the Patil twins," Hermione suggested.

"Is that everything?" the Wizengamot witch asked them all.

"Yes I think so," Tracy said brightly.

"Alright gang," Angelina said, calling for attention, her days as Quidditch captain at Hogwarts showing when she called a little too loud, "That's settled. I don't care if we're not all pleased about this, the details are locked in. There will be no complaining that we don't like purple or roses or the Malfoy's house or anything else. There will be no pulling out of the group wedding for a later date because you want to put off getting married and having to consummate that marriage in nine days. Everyone go home, complain, cry, do whatever it is you're going to do to react to this stupid law, and then write your guest list and owl it to Hermione. Hermione, do you think you can get a complete list done up for the meeting tomorrow?"

"Yes," Hermione said, "Provided that everyone owl's me their list on time. And I'm warning all of you, if it's five minutes late you'll be getting a howler from me, repeatedly, until the damn lists arrive. So don't think you can go home and cry and not bloody do it. Because I promise you won't get a wink of sleep tonight until I get the bloody lists."

Everyone looked somewhat concerned when Hermione glared at them all.

"Excellent. Then let's head off and I'll see all of you tomorrow at eleven. No one be late. I don't care if you've already got a wedding dress and aren't having any bridesmaids, we don't want to all look the same in our dresses so we need to all be there so we don't wind up with the same dress. Boys, you will also be there. I think I'll speak to Narcissa, she has impeccable taste regarding men's robes. I'm sure she wouldn't mind joining us to assist with getting something respectable and ruffle-free…." Tracy said seeming far too chipper for Hermione's liking.

"Well… until then. Tootle pip!" She said before she brushed her cheek against Harry's and walked away.

"Let's get out of here," Ron said, barrelling over with Harry and George in tow.

Hermione caught the glance Ginny threw at Blaise as they began to move and shivered when she felt eyes on her, glancing up to find Malfoy watching her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You ok?" Harry asked her, slinging an arm around her shoulders affectionately as she turned away from Malfoy and the other dispersing Syltherins. Hermione looked up at him, knowing that he was worried about her and hated the idea of seeing her married off to Malfoy. Hermione slipped her arm around his waist.

As she stared into his familiar face, Hermione felt her bravado and stern acceptance begin to crumble and she blinked rapidly against the sting of tears, fighting them back and refusing to let any of these gits see her cry. Harry didn't miss the motion and he squeezed her shoulders tighter, tucking her into his side just the way Malfoy had done in the lecture hall, only much more affectionately. His eyes were sympathetic as he peered down at her.

"I…" Hermione choked, biting her tongue on outright admitting that she was furious and terrified and utterly devastated when she knew Malfoy would still be listening with his werewolf hearing for her answer. Clearing her throat, she tried again.

"I'll be fine," she said, around the lump forming in her throat. Harry smiled pityingly as he cuddled her close, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as he whispered;

"You will be, I'll make sure of it."


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: A great big thank you to all of you who've been reading and reviewing this story. Look how your reviews are earning you speedy updates =) Anyway, I did start out trying to PM a response for each review, but it was eating into my writing time. A special thanks to: voldyhasnonose, tbeth, marianna79, roon0, vampireboolover09, Flowering13, summerorchid, aerieis, Twilightenproud, EndlessLoveEternally, 4ever419, and MsPeaceHope for reviewing so often, and for checking out my many other stories and also reviewing those. You guys rock! I hope I didn't forget anyone, but if I did, I'm sorry and you are also the bomb! I hope you like the story so far, and that you're enjoying the plot twists. I hope you love the one in this chapter. Moohahahaha! xx-Kitten**

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**Chapter 5**

They sat in silence around the table at the Burrow. Molly was doing her best to improve the morose mood by force feeding everyone tea and cake, but she wasn't achieving much. Ron sat at the table with his face in his hands, his ears glowing at whatever thoughts plagued him at the idea of marrying Pansy Parkinson.

Ginny was suspiciously quiet, staring into the empty tea cup she clutched too tightly, turning her knuckles white. Hermione felt curiosity nip at her again regarding Ginny's peculiar reaction to the idea of marrying Zabini.

George was chipper, since he and Angelina were close anyway. Bill and Fleur were there, offering silent moral support.

Harry looked thoughtful as he distractedly nibbled the slice of cake Molly had pushed on him. Hermione wondered how he felt about his arranged marriage with Tracy. She'd seemed authoritive and bubbly, unafraid to speak her mind and brimming with self-confidence. She was pretty too and while the circumstances of being ordered to marry weren't ideal, Hermione knew that Tracy was the type of woman that not only met Harry's 'type' needs, but would also be good for him.

They'd told Molly all about the plans that had already been made, which seemed to simultaneously please and irk the woman. She'd offered Ginny her own wedding gown and Ginny had graciously accepted the dress, though it would need to be altered and taken in to fit Ginny's lithe frame. They would be taking it to Madam Malkin tomorrow when they went to find something for Hermione. Fleur was going to be a bridesmaid to both Ginny and Hermione, intending to stand between both girls at the ceremony and hold both of their bouquets.

Mr and Mrs Weasley had been unhappy to hear they would all be getting married in the garden at Malfoy Manor and everyone had looked at Hermione cautiously at the mention of Malfoys.

Hermione herself had been practicing Occlumency to keep herself from thinking too hard about the fact that nine days from now she would become Mrs Hermione Malfoy of Malfoy Manor, wife to Draco Malfoy. She bit her lip as the tears of frustration threatened again.

It wasn't that she couldn't forgive him his misguided words and actions during and in the lead up to the war… it was that there was just so much between them that she didn't see how they could ever look past it all. Past the days of getting each other put on detention, of scheming and plotting and hating one other. How could they look past the bad blood over her having lost her temper and punched him? How could she ever forget the sound of his cold, sharp voice hoping for her death in front of most of the students when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened?

How could they forget the duels and the war and the fact that he'd been a Death Eater, albeit to protect his family and his own life? How could they ever look past all of that to do what was expected of them according to the Marriage Act that had been put in place. Hermione shuddered at the idea of having to touch him, blocking out the unbidden memory that floated into her mind of the way he'd pressed her to him. The way he'd smelled of lemons and caramel. The way he'd hoisted her back out of the way to keep her from being barged into by Pansy and accidentally attacked by that wizard who'd lost his temper with the Wizengamot.

She pushed away the memory of how he'd wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her back against him whilst trying to embarrass and torment her in front of his scowling parents. She didn't want to think about the fact that his touch had confused her and reminded her of just how long it had been since anyone had held her in any sort of romantic way.

She also didn't want to think about the fact that thanks to the bloody law, she was going to have to stand in front of everyone she knew and snog him and after that she was going to have to go away on a two week honeymoon with him. She really didn't want to think about the fact that she was going to have to go to St Mungo's where some healer was going to give them both something that would make them incredibly… wanton.

Hermione swallowed back nausea as she tried to imagine the fact that nine days from now she was going to be expected to wed Malfoy and then go off with him and let him bed her. Shuddering at the thought of having him see her naked Hermione felt a single tear escape her eyes and trickle down her cheek. She swiped at it furiously. She'd nearly cried on the way home with Harry hugging her, and damn it she wasn't going to cry now. Malfoy wasn't worth her tears, even if she was going to be tied to him for the rest of her life.

"Well this sucks," Hermione announced to the table at large, pushing her sadness and hopelessness away and reaching for her bravado.

"You can say that again," Ron replied, his voice muffled by the fact that he didn't lift his head out of his hands.

"At least we're getting it out of the way early," Ginny said quietly, "I don't think I could bear the tension of having to wait around until the end of the month with the whole thing hanging over me, just waiting for the Quaffle to drop."

"It's outrageous!" Harry grumbled, "How could Kingsley do this to us?"

"He's doing what he thinks is best," Mr Weasley said calmly, "The whole idea of actually forcing you all into this is bonkers, but the reasoning for it is not."

"Hogwarts is going to be swamped," George announced suddenly and everyone turned to look at him in confusion.

"Everyone's expected to start popping out kids, right? And contraception charms and all the rest will no longer be effective, not to mention that couples with less than four have to do their damnedest to have four. With all of us marrying within the month while jacked up on Fertility potions, eleven years and nine months from now Hogwarts is going to have an outrageous number of first years arriving, they'll be swamped with the ickle brats."

"Maybe I should go into teaching after all," Hermione said darkly, "Guaranteed a job for life and I'd get to live at Hogwarts rather than with the bloody Malfoys."

"They really did bollocks your match up," George told her, "Who in their right mind would stick you with that git instead of Ron or Harry or someone decent?"

"Someone who wants to rub the Malfoy's noses in their previous pureblood mania since they were particularly outspoken about me," Hermione replied, "And someone retaliating against me for pushing that legislature through to de-register all known werewolves in Britain by making me marry one."

"At least you're not marrying a pug-face bitter harpy," Ron told her.

"She's marrying Malfoy," Harry said, disgusted with Ron's self-pity, "That's a hundred times worse. Pointy-faced ferret of a Death Eater."

"All in all I'm feeling rather lucky to be honest," George told them, "You lot really got bollocksed. Bunch of gits doing the pairing… Honestly, who pairs three of the most famous and important War Heroes with those sods?"

"They're just trying to diffuse any latent anger from the war by marrying people from different sides to one another," Mr Weasley said reasonably.

"Or spark a new one right away," Ron said darkly.

"Don't talk like that Ron," Mrs Weasley admonished sternly, "Now I know none of you are all that pleased to be forced into this and the pairings are rather upsetting, but there is nothing for it."

"I suppose we ought to start working on our guest lists" Hermione sighed.

"Mum, you better do it, since it will be the same for me, Ron and George anyway," Ginny told her mother, spotting the perfect opportunity to distract Mrs Weasley before she could beginning sobbing again and before she could do something embarrassing like trying to explain sex to them and the responsibilities that come with being married.

"You're probably right dear," Molly said distractedly, already reaching for a quill and parchment.

"I get the feeling that everyone I would want at my wedding will on your lists anyway," Harry said.

"What about your Aunt and Uncle and cousin?" Hermione asked him.

"Oh… I didn't think about them," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "I suppose we could send them an invitation, but at such short notice I doubt they'll come. Even if it wasn't to be for years I doubt they'd come, Dudley and Uncle Vernon are too afraid of magic and Aunt Petunia is too bitter and too concerned with appearances."

"It's a nice touch though dear," Molly told him, "I'll put them on the list."

"This is going to be outrageous as far as parties go," George commented, "Pretty much the whole wizarding world will be there, not to mention that this whole event will be crawling with reporters."

"Oh Merlin," Ron groaned, "not reporters! Can my life get any worse?"

"_You_ could be marrying Malfoy" Hermione told him flippantly. Ron was so shocked at her words that he lifted his pale face to stare at her in surprise before he began to laugh hysterically.

"Imagine it!" he choked out as he laughed, thumping his hands on the table.

"Do you Ron Weasley take Draco Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband," George crowed, chortling too.

"Merlin this is botched," Harry proclaimed, guffawing along with the rest of the inhabitants of the Burrow.

"Did anyone see Luna and that Rolf Scamander?" Ginny asked, "I never thought I'd meet anyone who looked as vague as Luna."

"Well at least some of the pairing makes sense," Bill put in.

"They had to get at least one or two right," Harry replied, "Considering how badly they screwed up the rest."

"Language, Harry," Mrs Weasley admonished.

"Sorry Mrs Weasley," Harry replied though he looked unrepentant.

"What kind of dress would you like to wear Fleur?" Hermione asked the girl, "You might as well pick it yourself, and you'll have to come with us all the Diagon Alley tomorrow to be fitted for it."

Fleur was too busy giggling at the way George, Ron and Bill were pretending what it would be like to see George married off to Millicent Bulstrode or Harry paired up with Malfoy to reply but Hermione didn't really mind.

"I think I'm going to go home and see if I can nap. Maybe I'll wake up to find this is all just a really weird dream I've had," Ginny announced, "Mum, could you owl that list to Hermione when you're done with it? She's going to weed out any double ups."

"Of course dear."

Ginny eyed Hermione to see if she was ready to go and Hermione was itching to question her friend about her reaction to Zabini, but there was one little thing she had to do first.

"Mr Weasley?" Hermione began hesitantly, "I know you'll obviously be giving Ginny away at the ceremony… but, well, I was wondering…. With my parents having no idea who I am anymore…"

"I would be honoured to give you away Hermione," Mr Weasley beamed at her, his ears turning red with embarrassed pleasure to be asked.

"Oh, would you?" Hermione said, smiling delightedly.

"Well, I don't particularly want to give either of you away to those boys, but I'd be delighted to walk you and Ginny down the aisle together."

Mrs Weasley began to sob again at that and Hermione hugged both of the Weasley parents in her gratitude.

"Make sure you owl me with how everything goes tomorrow," Mrs Weasley was saying as Ginny and Hermione made their way over to the fireplace so they could Floo back to the flat they shared in London.

"We promise Mum, and Fleur, Harry, Ron, George we'll see you all at Diagon Alley tomorrow at eleven," Ginny told them all while Ron groaned at the reminder of their upcoming nuptials.

Landing back in there shared flat, Hermione dropped into her armchair to wait for Ginny.

"We need liquor," the red-head declared when she spotted Hermione cuddling her knees to her chest in her chair, bustling off to the kitchen to fetch some glasses and the bottle of wine they kept for occasions and long work-weeks.

Hermione didn't respond until Ginny returned handing her a liberal glass of sweet merlot which Hermione accepted gratefully, taking several long gulps before fixing her eyes on her friend.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked her, looking concerned, "You really drew the short straw."

"What am I going to do?" Hermione heard herself ask her friend in despair, "It's sodding Malfoy!

"Maybe you really should take up teaching," Ginny suggested sympathetically, "It's going to be so much worse for you too because not only will you have to put up with the ferret, you'll have to deal with sharing a house with his sodding parents."

"That's not even the worst part," Hermione groaned, "I'm expected to shag him, Gin! How the hell is that going to in any way not be awkward?"

"Well, I suspect that once they give us whatever potions and things they're planning to dose us with, you'll at least _want_ to shag him," Ginny said and Hermione stared at her drolly.

"What?" Ginny asked her defensively.

"How is that going to make it any better? The drugs will make us all so horny that we'll throw ourselves at each other and do unspeakable things and then I'll have to look at him and talk to no one but him for the following two weeks"

"I didn't think about that," Ginny replied, blushing.

"What's going on with you Ginny?" Hermione asked her friend, putting her pity-party aside in favour of satisfying her curiosity.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked warily.

"I mean since when do you ever look terrified of anyone? I saw the way you reacted when they announced that you'd be marrying Zabini and so far I've not actually heard you complain about being stuck with him."

Ginny blushed bright red before sighing, "You're too perceptive for your own good."

"If that were true I'd know what was going on with you," Hermione told her friend.

Ginny nibbled her lips, her eyes darting around guiltily before she took a big gulp of her win.

"I've been keeping something from you," Ginny admitted blushing.

"Something about Zabini?"

"Yes… Do you remember in my third year when he called me attractive?"

Hermione nodded, "Of course, I was talking to Malfoy about it earlier."

"Really?" Ginny asked, looking surprised

"Well, everyone else was trying to get to know their impending spouse except you and Zabini as well as Pansy and Ron… I commented on it and Malfoy was being surprisingly civil, so I asked him if he had any idea why the two of you would be acting so strangely."

"What did he say?" Ginny asked, looking panicked now.

"That it might be the marriage law, or perhaps that the two of you fancied one another. He suggested it due to the comment on your appearance made by Zabini at Hogwarts."

"Oh," Ginny replied, blushing and biting her lip nervously again.

"Something you need to tell me?" Hermione prodded.

"We sparred verbally a few times after that incident," Ginny began, her voice low and her cheeks pink, "And then I started dating boys when you told me I needed to be more myself around Harry…. After I dated Michael and Dean…. There was a stint there when I wanted to be dating Harry but he was still pining after Cho Chang and then wouldn't go out with me because of the war."

"You dated Zabini at Hogwarts?" Hermione demanded in surprise, "And you never told me?"

"Not exactly…. I ran into him one night in my fifth year on my way out of the library and we started bickering. I don't recall exactly what was said, but I was about to stomp away when he grabbed my wrist, pressed me into the wall and snogged me…. He's a really good snogger, by the way."

"Oh way to rub it in that you're going to marry the bloke already knowing he's a decent kisser," Hermione said, smiling widely now, "But I can't believe it. What did you do?"

"Snogged him back," Ginny admitted, blushing, "I was mad at Harry for still wanting Chang when I was clearly right there and interested…. And I realised as I was snogging Zabini that if anyone found out they'd be furious. At the time I was suffering teenage angst, and wanted to punish Harry for not even noticing that I was alive."

"And that's why you were both so stiff around each other today?" Hermione asked, sensing there might be more to the tale if Ginny's bright red ears were any indication.

"After that time outside the library we…. I avoided him for ages… for weeks. But every now and then I'd catch him staring at me across the Great Hall and he would always smirk whenever he caught me looking back and blushing like a fool… eventually he made a comment one night when I was on my way to Quidditch practice. He must've been following me around because he knew my schedule. We argued again about whatever silly thing he'd said and then before I knew it we were snogging again."

"I'm guessing it became a regular thing?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Ginny nodded, blushing some more.

"He was just such a good snogger," Ginny defended her actions, "And he actually wanted me, you know? There was Harry, avoiding me or not even noticing me, and then there was Blaise, sneaking around and learning what I like, learning my habits and schedule, dragging me into broom cupboards to snog me in secret. It was all so forbidden and… I just couldn't help myself."

"Did you date him?" Hermione asked, surprised by Ginny's story. It was so unheard of for any Gryffindor to be so intimate with a Slytherin that Hermione herself could feel a whisper of that forbidden thrill she knew Ginny must've felt.

"No… I mean it's not like we could go on dates to Hogsmede together or each lunch together in the Great Hall. After all, he might not have been directly involved in the war, but he couldn't go around blatantly snogging or dating a known Blood Traitor," Ginny said, "We just snuck around, snogging and stuff. We never really talked that much… the snogging was too good to waste time with chatter."

"So what happened?" Hermione asked, caught up in the tale now.

"For the rest of my fifth year we were sneaking around. I still had a thing for Harry and I think Zabini knew it. He didn't seem to mind, or at least he never mentioned it. With the war on our doorstep, just before the summer before you three went off searching for Horcruxes, Harry finally snogged me, do you remember?"

"Of course," Hermione smiled, recalling the way Ron had grumbled, Harry had been adorably smitten in that dorky way whilst trying to remain serious and Ginny had been positively bursting with happiness.

"He's not as good a kisser as Blaise," Ginny said idly, "But then he broke up with me in the summer so you could all go off hunting Hocruxes without putting me in danger."

Hermione watched the red-head roll her eyes.

"I was so angry at Harry for just ditching me. I mean, I understand that he thought he was doing what would be best and safest for me, but I was absolutely devastated. I'd been waiting to be with him for so long…. When I got back to school I caught Zabini watching me across the Great Hall at the Welcome Feast. Before I could think better of it I smiled at him and gave him a wink… it was the signal we'd developed when one of us wanted to meet up later in the day."

"No wonder you were so nervous around him today," Hermione murmured.

"That's not all," Ginny told her, blushing some more, "You guys were away and no one was hearing from you and I was so worried. All the time we'd see in the papers that things were getting worse, that more people had died, more were missing…. Blaise kept me sane. He never asked me to talk about it, but he'd catch my eye in the corridors when there'd be a new story and wink at me.

Gods, Hermione snogging him was addictive. It was like I was going numb from the pain of not being with Harry and worrying so much about you three and my parents and the Order and then Blaise would be there and he'd pull me close and snog me and make me _feel_ again, you know?"

"You slept with him, didn't you?" Hermione asked her friend quietly. Ginny had previously told her that Harry had been her first, but when the red-head lifted her head, her blue eyes begging Hermione's forgiveness for lying to her, Hermione could see just how affected her friend was. She wasn't just blushing, but her eyes looked misty and pleading at the same time.

"I wanted to tell you," Ginny said, "But it had been our secret and if anyone had ever found out there'd been anything between us…."

"So what happened?" Hermione asked her, frowning a little now.

"It all got too much one day and being with Blaise made it better. We'd already come close a few times…. I just gave in to the sensations. To the way he could make me feel…. He protected me, you know? When Snape took over as Headmaster and the Carrows were so cruel, Blaise protected me when he could. A lot of the time the Carrows got off on seeing the older students and the Slytherins punish and hurt the rest of us, that's why we started rebelling. Blaise lied to them several times to keep me from getting into trouble or getting hurt."

"And no one knew? Weren't you hiding out in the Room of Requirement by then?"

Ginny nodded, "But we always needed things, so there were chances to sneak out unnoticed…. When Luna was taken, he was worried about me and tried to talk me into leaving the school and not coming back. I had to eventually, what with the Death Eaters learning that Ron was with you and Harry. I didn't see him for a while when that happened. At the battle when we came back to the school I saw him…. He looked so panicked when he saw me Hermione, and he caught me in a corridor during the chaos.

Before I could stop him he snogged me right there for anyone to see, though anyone who did has never mentioned a word about it. He was one of the ones who got out when the fighting started… He… He snogged me and then he begged me to leave with him."

"What?" Hermione gasped in surprise. Ginny nodded.

"He knew there was a real risk that I was going to die… He actually begged me to leave with him…. I couldn't of course. There was no way I was going to abandon my family and you and Harry and all my other friends and loved ones there alone. I couldn't abandon the cause just because he asked me to."

Ginny looked at her with a strange expression on her face as she paused.

"You should've seen his face when I told him I wasn't leaving my family and you and Harry to fight without me…. He has the warmest eyes, but they went cold as ice and his expression just shut down into one of coldness and irritation. _'Even after all this time… It's still Potter for you, isn't it_?' he said to me. His voice was stiff and formal like I'd never heard it. And of course I was still in love with Harry. I'd been in love with him since the very first day I saw him and nothing was ever going to change that. I still love him…. But how do you explain something like that to the boy you've been snogging and subsequently shagging for more than a year?"

Hermione shook her head, indicating that she didn't know.

"I reiterated that I wasn't going to abandon my family, but I could tell I hurt him. He just stared at me for a minute before he finally stepped forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead…. He whispered to me '_Please be safe'_. Then he walked away," Ginny said softly, "But when he got to the end of the corridor I was still watching him and I realised that I cared about him a lot more than I thought and a lot more than I should've seeing him just walk away like that…. He turned back to me just before disappearing. Gods I'll never forget what he said to me."

"What did he say?" Hermione asked curiously and concerned by the mournful expression on her friend's face. Ginny looked at her and Hermione was shocked when she saw tears glistening in her best friend's eyes.

"'_I would've given you everything, Ginevra'_" Ginny quoted in a whisper, "Then he was gone and there was all the fighting and we lost Fred and Tonks and Remus and so many others…. Then Harry and I were back together… I tried to contact Zabini a few times, but he never answered my letters."

Hermione and Ginny sat in silence after that, pondering the moment. Hermione was surprised to have learned such a secret about her best friend.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Hermione asked her, feeling a little hurt.

"I was with Harry and you knew that I'd always wanted to be… and then it all fell apart and I realised that in all those years I'd spent being in love with Harry, he'd never been able to make me feel the way Blaise made me feel with just a look. I didn't tell you at school because I knew you'd think I was barking, and… I was a little ashamed at first. I felt… weak, for letting Zabini get to me and letting him snog me…. For wanting to snog him back. And then I was with Harry, then the war and the grief and being with Harry again and then the Quidditch deal and breaking up with Harry and you and Ron falling apart too…. Sometimes I wanted to tell you. I ached to tell someone about it. I still dream about that ice in his eyes when I told him I couldn't go with him…. I was ashamed too."

"Of being with him?" Hermione asked.

"No…. Of having kept it all from you for so long and hiding it from Harry and everyone else… Of not choosing Blaise when I probably should've. Not in the battle, because there was no way I'd have ever abandoned my family. But I should've told him before he walked away that I cared about him, that I wanted him to be safe… that I fancied him…. And I was ashamed that I didn't. I was ashamed I chose Harry over him because it was what everyone expected, even me."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"I can't believe you kept it a secret for so long," Hermione admitted, "I'd have gone barmy over it, trying to keep it from you."

Ginny didn't answer and Hermione could tell the girl was caught up in her past. When she finally looked up, a tear trickled down her cheek.

"What am I going to do?" Ginny whispered, "I really hurt him Hermione. He won't even speak to me. Did you see his face when they read out our pairing? He looked like he'd rather pull his own fingernails off with rusty pliers than even be in the same room as me. I tried to speak to him in the hall after they gave out the contracts and the rings…. He wouldn't even look at me and I might as well have been talking to a statue for all the response I got from him."

Hermione's heart ached for the girl.

"I don't know Gin, maybe you'll just have to wear him down. I mean, you'll be getting married to him in nine days and then going one a two week holiday with the bloke. He'll have to talk to you eventually. Have you apologised to him?"

"Yes. In my letters to him. I'm just so…. Merlin Hermione how are we ever going to consummate the bloody marriage if he won't even talk to me or acknowledge that I exist?"

"Oh Gin, I'm sure he just needs time to warm back up to you. After all, if you hurt him so badly then I suspect he was probably in love with you. How would you feel if you'd been in love with him and he'd chosen someone else over you?"

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?" Ginny asked her, flabbergasted.

"Better. Of course. But maybe if you think about it from his perspective, you'll be able to think of what to do or say. If things were reversed and he'd broken your heart to run off with some other girl… a famous one at that… what would you want him to do to make it up to you?"

"I don't know," Ginny said, biting her lip thoughtfully. "What would you want me to do if I'd done it to you?"

"Apologise," Hermione replied, smiling, "Admit you were a complete idiot and that you'd made the biggest mistake of your life by choosing to love someone else over me when I clearly loved you more."

"You think he loved me more than Harry?"

"I don't know Gin. It certainly sounds like there was some very real chemistry between you, and if he was interested enough that he snuck around learning things about you including your schedule, then I'd say he definitely loved you. Harry did too, but it sounds like Blaise loved you so much that the only reason he let you go is because he loved you enough to want you to be happy, even if it wasn't with him."

Ginny buried her face in her hands and moaned despairingly, "Merlin, I'm such an awful person."

"No you're not. You just…. Didn't realise what you had."

"So then what do I do?" She asked "What, would you say? If you were me, what would you say to him?"

"I'm not sure…" Hermione nibbled her thumb nail thoughtfully "Maybe something like 'I'm really sorry that I was such an idiot back then. I was blinded by the prejudices surrounding the Hogwarts houses and didn't want to even contemplate how my family would react to learning I'd ever been with you. I was foolish and stupid and thought that what I wanted was Harry because I'd had a schoolgirl crush on him from the first time I saw him.'"

Hermione paused, looking up at Ginny who was watching her intently as though trying to memorise her words.

"The maybe I'd say something like 'Blaise, I'm so sorry that I hurt you that way. I was young and stupid and I didn't realise that you cared for me so much and didn't know how to tell you how I felt about you.' Then maybe you should say something about the fact that you're going to be bound together in holy matrimony and you would really like it if the two of you could do that whilst at least on speaking terms."

"Do you think that will work?" Ginny asked, "He's so stubborn…"

"A trait you have in common then?" Hermione smiled at her friend and Ginny smiled back at her.

"I'm such an idiot for not telling you about this sooner," Ginny said. "Even after Harry and I broke up, I never told you because I thought you'd look at me like I was barking for having been with a Slytherin."

"And now we're all marrying them" Hermione replied dully.

"Are you going to be ok with Malfoy? Really?" Ginny asked perking up a little at having finally gotten her story off her chest.

"I honestly have no idea," Hermione sighed.

"Well at least he apologised right?" Ginny said, smiling at her encouragingly. Hermione snorted.

"No he didn't. He actually said that if I was looking for civility between us I was barking and tried to crush my hand."

"What?" Ginny gasped, "That git!"

Hermione nodded, "I knew he was baiting me into throwing a tantrum, so I made him look like he'd managed to mature rather than causing some childish scene."

"What about the way I saw him hugging you? He had his arm around you, and I have to say, you looked pretty cosy curled up against him like that." Ginny told her.

"He was doing it to irritate me for saying what I said. Then he was telling me about the fact that we would be exempt from the law because he's a werewolf. He didn't look all that happy when I told him that wasn't the case."

"You really did draw the short straw there. I mean, marrying Malfoy and putting up with his awful personality would be bad enough, but you'll also have to deal with all that werewolf moodiness and grumpiness. Do you remember the way Remus used to get so snappy and growly? And you're going to have to put up with Malfoy being all snarky like that…"

"And his father," Hermione grumbled.

"Lucius is a werewolf too?" Ginny's eyes widened in shock.

"Apparently they were both bitten by Greyback as a form of punishment from Voldemort for failing him. Mr Malfoy for failing to obtain the prophecy about Harry and Voldemort when we stopped them in the Department of Mysteries, and Draco for failing to be the one to kill Professor Dumbledore."

"That's horrible," Ginny said.

"Not as horrible as the idea of having to shag Malfoy and let him knock me up," Hermione told her.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione I hadn't even thought about that. I mean, I had about me and Blaise… but I completely forgot that you're actually going to have to let him touch you and kiss you and…. Oh gods Hermione you're going to be the next Lady Malfoy and birth the next generation of Malfoy snots into the world."

"Don't remind me," Hermione sighed. "It's hard enough to fathom that all that will have to happen, but to also throw into the mix that Mr and Mrs Malfoy have to also try to have three more children…."

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even think about that. Mum and Dad are safe because they already had the seven of us, but… wow. Ew, that means that if you get pregnant soon and she does too, you're going to have babies the same age as their aunts or uncles."

"I know. It's awful. Imagine the idea of more Malfoy's running around."

Ginny shuddered.

"And you, my dear friend, are going to have to birth the next generation of Zabini's," Hermione reminded her friend.

"I know," Ginny replied and Hermione caught the little smile on her friend's face at the idea.

"Have you secretly been pining after Blaise all these years? I saw that smile," Hermione asked her friend.

"Not pining… but I have thought about how different things would've been if I'd picked Blaise instead of Harry. Now I get to find out."

Before Hermione could comment they both looked up in surprise at a tap on the window and Hermione got up to let in the handsome Eagle owl perched on the window sill. The huge creature glided into the room while Ginny went to the cupboard to fetch the owl treats.

Attached to its leg was a scroll of parchment that Hermione untied while Ginny fed the creature a treat. The owl screeched gratefully before swooping back out the window.

The scroll was sealed with a dollop of green wax impressed with the Malfoy family insignia and Hermione showed Ginny as she felt a pit of nervousness open up in her stomach.

"It's probably their list of wedding guests. They can't have that many guests left to invite, what with most of their former friends dead, in Azkaban or hating them for defecting during the war." Ginny reasoned.

Hermione nodded as she broke the seal and unfurled the scroll.

_Granger,_

_The guest list you requested:_

_The Goyle family_

_The Parkinson family_

_The Greengrass family_

_Andromeda Tonks &amp; Edward "Teddy" Lupin_

_The Nott family_

_Obviously most of these are double ups of other guests that will be attending this ridiculous Group Wedding. Mother has already begun preparations for the ceremony in the gardens and the following wedding reception, which she is insisting will be held in the Grand Ballroom of the Manor. You ought to begin packing your things to move in._

_Expect an owl regarding the St. Mungo's appointment. I just got mine. It seems they are rushing the treatment for all involved in this bloody group ceremony to ensure we will all be out of minds with lust by the day of the ceremony and subsequent required consummation. Our first appointment is this evening at 6:20 PM._

_Aren't you excited?_

_-D._

Hermione stared at the letter, surprised he'd actually written it himself and a little disturbed by the fact that she could hear his sarcastic drawl in her mind as she read his words.

"What does it say?" Ginny asked her upon seeing her pale face. Hermione handed the letter to her best friend who scanned it quickly.

"Gods, they are rushing it through. 6:20 PM tonight. That's less than two hours from now," Ginny was cut off as another owl swooped through the open window, this one carrying two letters.

"That'll be our appointment notifications," Hermione said, taking both scrolls from the bird. It flew out the window without taking the treat Ginny offered it.

"Oh no. My first treatment is scheduled for 6:30 PM…. Gods, I'm not ready to face Blaise again," Ginny moaned pathetically.

"Oh shush. At least you have a romantic history with him rather than one of enmity," Hermione grumbled.

"Sorry 'Mione… I'm just nervous about seeing him," Ginny told her, blushing

"I know the feeling. Merlin I hope they don't do something awful like try to do a pelvic exam on me with Malfoy in the room." Hermione grumbled, feeling nauseas at the idea of having to put her feet up in those stirrups while some doctor poked around down there, all with Malfoy watching on.

"It's like you're trying to make me even more nervous" Ginny said, paling at the idea.

"Oh what are you complaining about? Blaise has seen you naked, he probably still loves you since if he didn't he wouldn't be acting like a hurt teenager. This is bloody Malfoy we're talking about!"

"In some ways having been with Blaise previously makes it worse. Like, what if he judges me for any changes that have happened from when we were still at school?"

"Ginny, I love you, but if you keep complaining about this when you're actually marrying someone you are clearly still fancy very deeply, and may in fact still be in love with, I may be forced to hex you." Hermione warned her friend, feeling panic begin to take hold of her at the idea of having to go to St. Mungo's to be given Fertility treatments to ensure she'd be primed for growing the next generation of Malfoy.

"Sorry 'Mione" Ginny apologised, "I know it's a thousand times worse for you…. I just can't help being nervous. At least by the time you have to sleep with Malfoy you'll both be so hopped up on the treatments that you won't really care what he thinks of you naked. And I'm going to get you drunk at our wedding reception so that you won't overthink everything and make things impossibly awkward."

"Even if you weren't planning it, I'd be getting drunk. There is no way I'm going to be able to shag Malfoy without becoming some blushing, stuttering fool."

"Well, the good news there is that shagging doesn't call for much talk so he won't notice a stutter," Ginny grinned at her.

"You're not funny," Hermione replied, glaring at the grinning red head, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Maybe, once or twice," Ginny smiled, "I think it was Luna when I tried to joke with her about Nargles. She informed me Nargles are no laughing matter."

Hermione snorted in surprise.

"Merlin, Ginny tell me this is a dream? Tell me we drank too much last night and this is all some awful nightmare that I'm going to wake up from?" Hermione sighed, before draining her wine glass and reaching for the bottle to refill their glasses.

"Afraid not," Ginny said, "But if it is, make sure to tell me so I can hunt down Blaise and get back together with him."

"You _are_ in love with him," Hermione accused, smiling at Ginny.

"I think I am. No one else has ever made me feel the way he does."

"That's not a good enough reason. No one has ever made me feel as nauseas and cranky as Malfoy does." Hermione rebutted, deciding as she downed another glass of wine in two long slurps that she was going to get good and drunk to try and forget about all this.

"You're forgetting about McClaggen," Ginny told her, her cheeks turning red as she too drank her wine quickly.

"McClaggen," Hermione laughed, "Oh I had forgotten about him. I wonder who he got stuck with. I hope it was someone awful. I wouldn't wish his sleaziness on anyone… except maybe Parkinson. I feel bad for Ron. Imagine putting up with that swot forever."

"You and Ron really did get bollocksed," Ginny told her, "What kind of idiots would pair the four of you like that? Why wouldn't they put you with Ron and stick Malfoy and Parkinson together?"

"I don't know but if I ever learn the names of the people who are responsible for the pairings, I'm going to punch them right in the face like I did to Malfoy in third year," Hermione said before getting up off the couch to fetch more wine.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm so pleased you're all enjoying the story so much thus far. I apologise if there are a few 'typos' that seem like the words are mispelled. It's because my MS Word is set to English Australian. There are a bunch of words spelt with s instead of z and whatnot. Sorry about that. Anyway, if you find any other issues, don't hesitate to let me know. I've edited this fic a bunch, but every now and then I get in the groove reading and my brain transplants the word I meant, rather than what my fingers typed. =) I've still got heaps of chapters for this pre-written, and inspiration has struck for more, so you'll be getting daily updates for a while yet =) xx-Kitten**

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**Chapter 6**

Hermione suspected she might be swaying where she stood. Ginny was beside her and she had a sneaking suspicion that if either of them were to move, they might both fall down. They'd had quite a lot of wine and Hermione was beginning to regret it as she felt the prickle of her earlier head-ache returning tenfold as she began to sober back up.

They both stood in the reception area waiting for Malfoy and Zabini to arrive and they were running late. The Healer had already come by once, but had told them they couldn't start without both spouses in attendance.

"Really, Granger?" that annoying drawl sounded from next to her and if she hadn't still been tipsy, Hermione knew she'd have jumped to realise Malfoy was suddenly standing beside her, having snuck up next to her when she wasn't paying attention.

"Where did you come from?" Hermione asked him, feeling her stomach squiggle uncomfortably to be suddenly in Malfoy's presence again.

"Outside," Malfoy replied bluntly, "Are you drunk?"

"No!" Hermione protested immediately, momentarily forgetting that she was a twenty-two year old woman with every right to be getting drunk if she so chose.

"Well, maybe a little," Ginny said, slurring just a tiny bit. Hermione wasn't sure if Ginny had gotten so drunk because she was showing her moral support for Hermione or because she was going out of her mind overthinking everything to do with Zabini.

"The idea of marrying me offends you so much that you got sloshed?" Malfoy asked though he looked amused rather than offended.

"I wouldn't say I'm shloshed," Hermione slurred.

"Because you're too drunk to pronounce it," Malfoy inserted cheekily.

"NO! Though the idea does offend me," Hermione said though she felt a little too muddled to think of anything else to say to protest his correct statement.

"Well, all I'll say is that if this is how you plan to spend our marriage, I'm sure we'll get along just fine. In fact, we should get sloshed together, perhaps even on a regular basis in order to make this entire ridiculous situation more bearable." Malfoy told her, seeming uncharacteristically flippant.

Hermione rolled her eyes and almost immediately regretted it when everything spun dizzily and her head began to throb painfully.

"You're late," she told him as she tried to change the subject, "The healers were looking for us."

"Ah, Mr Malfoy. Excellent, if you and Miss Granger could follow me, we'll begin," the smiling healer said, appearing before Malfoy could sneer about how he had more important things to do or how he was better than other and therefore reserved the right to arrive when he felt like it, not when he was commanded.

The healer was an elderly woman, maybe in her early sixties, plump with a kindly face and a warm smile that inexplicably made Hermione think of her late grandmother - a woman who had always been smiling and happy and would always slip Hermione sweets when her parents weren't looking. She felt a prickle of sadness at the reminder that she no longer had her grandmother to slip her sweets, nor her parents to scold her about the cavities she'd get for eating them.

"Come, wife," Malfoy said, oblivious to Hermione's sinking feeling of sadness and clearly losing his mind if he believed he could ever address her as such – married or not. He reached for her when she didn't look much like moving because she was too busy glaring at him, "Stop propping up the Weaselette and let's get going."

"Don't call me 'wife'," Hermione grumbled, attempting to jerk her arm out of his grasp when he took firm hold of her and tugged her towards himself.

"Don't make a scene," Malfoy muttered to her even as he tucked her under his arm to make sure she wouldn't sway when she walked. Hermione felt insulted but when she almost tripped over her own shoes, she found herself wrapping her own arm around his lower back to balance. She chose to ignore the strange looks the other patients and patrons shot them at the sight of herself and Malfoy willing touching each other even before they been given their fertility treatments.

She glanced back at Ginny to see her standing staring wide-eyed up at Zabini, who had appeared from somewhere and was eyeing her with a look of disgust on his face.

"You hate me so much that you show up here drunk?" Hermione heard him demand of her friend, sounding angry and appalled at the same time and making Ginny cringe just the tiniest bit.

"No! It was moral support for Hermione. She's a little put out by today's events. I couldn't let her drink alone," Ginny explained hastily, her ears turning red. The scathing look Zabini gave her in response made Hermione feel sorry for her friend. Ginny looked miserable when Blaise turned his attention to anything else, even while she kept looking up into his face hopefully.

"What are you looking at?" Malfoy asked her, glancing back when she almost tripped again because she was trying to catch Ginny's eye instead of watching where she was going.

"I know why they're acting weird," Hermione told him, glancing up at his face as they rounded the corner, blocking Ginny and Blaise from view.

"Do share," Malfoy replied, looking somewhat intrigued even though he managed to sound utterly bored.

"When we were still at Hogwarts, they were shagging," Hermione blurted, before remembering that Ginny probably wouldn't be all that fond of that information getting out. Especially since it could land in the lap of Harry or Ron, both of whom would no doubt be furious over the idea of Ginny having lost her virginity so young.

"That bastard!" Malfoy exclaimed, though he had begun to smirk rather than looking angry, "He never told me that!"

"Probably because it's a secret that only the two of them and now you and I know, so don't you dare tell anyone or I'll wax your tail while you're all wolfy." Hermione threatened him, trying to repair the damage she may have already done simply by telling him and hoping her would buy her threat.

Malfoy glared down her though he looked more amused than annoyed at the mention of his condition.

"You just couldn't bear the idea of not knowing something, could you Granger?" He asked her judgingly.

"Nope. It's a personal foible. You'll get used to it," She waved a hand dismissively.

"Well, I imagine you got more information from her than that, so you might as well share it." Malfoy told her and Hermione raised her eyebrows at the fact that he was being so… tolerable.

"They started snogging in our sixth year," Hermione told him, before biting her lip and wondering if she should elaborate further and how tipsy she still was that she'd told him at all.

"I thought the Weaselette had a thing for Potter?" Malfoy said, looking puzzled as they followed the healer into an examination room.

"She did. Apparently she was arguing with Zabini about something and he pushed her into the wall and snogged her. It seems he's good enough at it that she couldn't resist doing it again."

"I wouldn't know," Malfoy quipped, smirking when Hermione snorted in surprise.

"Anyway, it was causal for most of our sixth year. Then Ginny and Harry got together but broke up when Harry, Ron and I left to go hunting Horxcruxes. When she went back to school Ginny and Blaise were all over each other again."

"In our seventh year she was only there for half the year," Malfoy frowned.

"No she wasn't. She and the rest of the DA were hiding out in the Room of Requirement most of them time. Apparently she snuck out to shag Blaise," Hermione told him.

"I'm guessing it didn't end well?" Malfoy asked, and Hermione found herself surprise by the way they were managing to have an actual conversation without insulting each other.

"He asked her to run away with him at the Final Battle" Hermione told him, letting go of him and moving to sit in the seat the Healer had silently directed her towards "And she said no. After that she and Harry got back together. Seems Zabini still has his wand in a knot over it."

"And you thought _our_ marriage would be awkward," Malfoy smirked at her and Hermione paled at the reminder that in less than a fortnight she was going to become Lady Hermione Malfoy.

"Well now, I think we'd best get started. We don't have a lot of time to get these treatments into you before your wedding" The healer told them when an awkward silence replaced the conversation they'd been having. "So, my name is Healer Underwood and I'll be taking care of the pair of you personally from now on. Not just for your fertility treatments. I'll also be the one to examine you Miss Granger, to confirm that the pair of you consummate your marriage next week. You'll need to see me every month after your honeymoon to make sure everything is going well and to test for pregnancy."

Hermione fixed her eyes on the healer, feeling the dark red blush creep up her cheeks at the sudden reminder that she was supposed to shag Malfoy and that the goal of such an act was for her to get pregnant. She could feel Malfoy's eyes on her and she wanted to hex him for it, knowing her was probably enjoying her awkwardness and embarrassment.

"Right then, today we're going to start by doing a full physical examination on both of you so that we can monitor the effects of the treatments on both of you and to make sure you're both healthy. So, I want both of you to take one of these" Healer Underwood continued, holding hospital gowns out to both of them "And go through that door there. Inside there are cubicles where you can change. When you're done I'd like both of you to come back in here please."

Hermione gingerly took the robe, still not looking at Malfoy as she got to her feet and moved towards the door where Healer Underwood had directed them to go. As she slipped through the door, Hermione could feel the hair on the back of her neck begin to prickle and she knew it was because she was being stalked by a predator. She couldn't hear Malfoy moving, but she could feel that he was only a pace or two behind her. When she ducked into the stall, Hermione made sure to bolt the door tight, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she could hear Malfoy doing the same in the next stall over.

She stripped quickly, wondering if she was supposed to get completely naked beneath the robe or if she was allowed to keep her knickers on. Gritting her teeth as she considered the fact that a pelvic exam was likely, Hermione slipped them off over her ankles and stood there staring at herself in the little mirror completely naked for just a moment, trying to imagine the way Malfoy might see her.

Her hair had been tamed somewhat since her days at Hogwarts, the frizziness smoothing into neat curls and waves, though her hair was still a little bushy. Her skin was that peaches and cream complexion, and unblemished but for the long thin scar across her chest from the Battle in the Department of Mysteries and the few potion-burn scars on her hands. She was slender and she supposed she was well proportioned. At least, nothing about her body stood out as being too attention-grabbing or ugly. Her breasts were modest and pert, her waist trim with just a suggestion of her ribs outlined beneath the skin. Her hips were wide; _'child-bearing-hips' _she'd been told by her aunts and grandmothers as she was growing up; a statement that still made her shudder.

Her legs were long and toned with no visible imperfections.

At least, that was what Hermione saw. She wondered if Malfoy would see the scar on her chest and think it ugly. If he would be disappointed by the size of her breasts or her utter unremarkableness. Scowling to herself for even contemplating what he might think and feeling her headache getting worse, Hermione quickly donned the hospital gown she'd been given, and stepped back out of the stall. She squeaked in surprise when Malfoy exited his stall just as she was about to pass.

His grey eyes landed on her, sweeping over her despite the fact that the baggy gown hid most of her figure. When he stepped into the corridor in front of her, Hermione felt her gaze suddenly drawn to his bare feet and she giggled just a little bit to see him without shoes. Normally, feet freaked her out a bit, but it was so odd to see Malfoy – who prided himself on being well-dressed at all times – barefoot and dressed in a gown that was just a bit too short for someone of his height.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked her, glaring over his shoulder at her.

"Erm… It's just strange to see you not in a Hogwarts uniform or wearing a suit," Hermione murmured truthfully, dragging her eyes away from his feet.

She noticed as her eyes skimmed up his back to meet his gaze that he'd forgotten to do up one of the ties on his gown. He'd done up the one in the middle of his back – mercifully – but the one at the back of his neck hung open, revealing a strip of his bare back beneath the gown.

In spite of herself, Hermione felt her gaze drawn to the pale expanse of flesh, cringing just a bit when she noticed that between his shoulder blades and disappearing beneath the folds of the gown, there was a mess of shiny pink and white scars crisscrossing his flesh. She knew at a glance that they were claw-mark scars.

She wondered if they were self-inflicted or if at the full moon he and Mr Malfoy fought like beasts. Could it be that Greyback had done that to him when he'd bitten Malfoy on the command of Voldemort?

"Erm… Malfoy?" Hermione began hesitantly, her eyes still glued to his scars.

"What?" He asked, sounding annoyed.

"You erm… you forgot to tie one of the ties on your gown," Hermione stammered, her cheeks heating to be mentioning it. Malfoy cursed colourfully as his hands leapt to the back of the gown, trying to pull it closed as though he feared she could see his bum.

"Hold still," she told him, stepping closer and resisting the urge to run her fingers over the claw-marks on his flesh, instead picking up the pair of strings and tying them in a bow at the back of his neck, watching the scar covered flesh disappear.

"What did you see?" He asked when she was finished, his voice low and rough and his back still turned to her.

Hermione realised he must know about the scars all over his back, and that he probably hated them.

"It was only the neck-tie Malfoy," Hermione replied smoothly, "I didn't see anything vital, I promise."

"Not yet, anyway," he murmured.

"Let's not discuss that," Hermione suggested quickly at the mention of the fact that all too soon she was going to find out what he looked like completely naked and would learn of anywhere else he might have scars.

"You sure you're not a prude Granger?" He asked her, grinning now when he turned to look down into her blushing face.

"I'm not a prude Malfoy," Hermione replied, watching his eyes flash to lupine-gold for a moment and realising that he'd taken her statement as a challenge.

"I guess we'll see about that," he replied devilishly and Hermione wanted to sink through the floor when her cheeks flamed crimson while he chuckled wickedly.

Unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't just make him laugh more, Hermione pushed her way past him in the narrow corridor and stormed for the door back into the examination room.

"Ah, wonderful," Healer Underwood said by way of greeting, "Hermione, Draco, this is my assistant Healer Huang. She's currently in her final year of Healer-School and still in training, but she's going to be helping out with getting a full and detailed medical history and medical record in order for both of you. If you'd both like to re-take your seats, I will begin the preliminary tests while Healer Huang asks you a few questions."

Hermione did as she was told without looking at Malfoy and hated the idea of answering any questions about herself with him in the room. Not that either healer seemed to care when Healer Underwood strapped a blood-pressure cuff to her arm and began muttering incantations to test her temperature and Merlin knew what else.

"Miss Granger, I'll start with you if you don't mind," Healer Huang said, smiling brightly, "So to begin with, we need to collect a full medical record regarding your parents. Could you tell me their names and any medical conditions either of them had?"

Hermione scowled.

"My mother's name was Monica Granger. She's currently forty-eight years old with no known medical issues that I'm aware of, however she does have a family history of heart problems and I think her grandmother died of breast cancer, though it may have been too early to have been diagnosed back then. My father's name was Wendell Granger. He is currently fifty-two years old and suffers high cholesterol and a stomach ulcer. He takes blood pressure medication and something for polyps in his stomach. He also has a history of heart problems on both sides of his family, as well a family history of diabetes, cancer and severe arthritis."

"I see," the healer said while Healer Underwood urged Hermione to her feet and asked her to move over to stand on a set of scales to measure her weight even as a bewitched tape measure began measuring her height, the length of her arms and legs, her bust, waist and hip measurements and even the circumference of her head.

"I thought you said you don't have parents anymore?" Malfoy asked her from where he sat watching on and looking bored.

Hermione stared at him for a moment even as a thermometer was forced under her tongue and a pair of testing swabs went into her ears.

"To keep them safe during the war I modified their memories," Hermione replied, "They forgot they have a daughter and operating under the new memory I gave them, moved to Australia. They have new names and are living there comfortably. After the war I went to find them, but was unsuccessful at undoing the memory charm I'd put on them. It is safer for them to be there anyway and they seemed happy. They have no idea who I am or that I even exist." She replied flatly and she caught the flicker or sympathy in the eyes of both healer's though Malfoy didn't react at all.

"Do you know if either of your parents had low levels of fertility Miss Granger?" the healer asked her.

"My mum had four miscarriages before carrying me to term," Hermione told them and the healer's glanced at each other worriedly. "I think she also had two after I was born, which is why I'm an only child."

"Did she share with you the medical reasoning for the miscarriages at all?" the healer asked.

"She didn't like to talk about it, but I remember reading some pamphlets she was given regarding Endometriosis and IVF treatments."

"What's IVF?" the healer's both asked her.

"In Vitro Fertilisation," Hermione replied, "It's a procedure that involves the embryonic egg being fertilised outside the body and then deposited into the womb."

"What a strange way to create pregnancy," Healer Underwood commented, "Why do muggles do that?"

"Lots of reasons. Some women have issues that mean the eggs aren't released properly. Others have very strong immune systems that recognise sperm as a threat to the immune system and so attack them rather than allowing pregnancy to occur. Sometimes it happens too if the male has weak sperm, resulting in them not reaching the egg to fertilise it. The muggle doctors separate the sperm and egg from the donor and put them together in a controlled environment and then insert the fertilised eggs back into the womb to grow naturally. For some couples, that's the only way they're able to have children." Hermione explained, ignoring Malfoy's snort when she went into lecture mode as she explained the process.

"I wonder why they don't just do what we do and heighten fertilisation," Healer Huang said.

"They don't have access to magic, so they rely on science alone. I know they do have some fertility treatments they heighten the levels of hormones and things to improve the chance of pregnancy, but for some, even that doesn't work," Hermione replied, "Can I sit back down now?"

"Not yet, dear," Healer Underwood said, "First we need to run some more tests. Could you sit over here in this chair and put your feet in these stirrups.

"I'm not letting you do this exam with Malfoy in the room," Hermione told them seriously while Malfoy glanced over in surprise to hear her objecting.

"Miss Granger…" the healer began.

"No." Hermione said, "It's one thing to poke and prod at my mouth and nose, but I'm not lifting my gown and letting you poke around down there with him in the room."

"You're being unreasonable dear," Healer Underwood told her sternly.

"Perhaps I am, but I'm currently doing so rationally. You do not want me to begin regarding this irrationally, I can assure you," Hermione replied icily, glaring at both healers now.

"Granger, it's nothing I'm not going to see anyway," Malfoy told her, smirking now and clearly enjoying how uncomfortable she was.

"And I have no doubt that at some stage I'm going to see your bum, but do you really want me in the room when Healer Underwood asks you to lift your gown, turn your head and cough?" Hermione snapped.

"I think, perhaps Miss Granger, that you are regarding these exams from the point of view expected based on what you know of Muggle procedures. I can assure you things here are done differently."

"Then why do I need to sit in the chair with my legs in stirrups?" Hermione demanded.

"We need to do a pelvic exam and test your fertility levels," the healer explained.

"Which you do by having me spread my legs while you shine bright lights on my privates and poke around with your finger, wand or some other probing device," Hermione snapped, noting Malfoy's look of horror at the very idea.

"If you're going to do that, I'll step out," Malfoy said, getting to his feet and making for the door back to the changing hall.

"Miss Granger, we are not so barbaric in the wizarding world," Healer Underwood assured her. "As you can see, the chair faces the wall over there. The stirrups are only used to ensure your body is positioned correctly. The rest of the pelvic exam is performed by this."

She held up a very small metal ball that looked to Hermione like a ball-bearing.

"Is that a tiny snitch?" Malfoy asked, eyeing the object curiously.

"Definitely not. This is a pelvic exam instrument. It is programmed to make this procedure as non-invasive as possible."

"What does it do?" Hermione asked, eyeing it uncertainly.

"When you are in position in the chair, I will place this on the inside of your knee. Once it comes into contact with your skin it will roll up your leg and…" She began pausing when Hermione gasped.

"Basically that goes into my private parts instead of anything else?" Hermione asked seriously. The ball was small, no bigger than a regular marble so she doubted it would be all that invasive.

"Yes, it does." Healer Underwood told her kindly "The metal will heat to the temperature of your body so it is likely you won't feel it at all. It is small enough that it will travel all the way to you cervix where the properties of the metal will test your fertility and will also record an internal view to allow us to make sure there is no damage or illness present. It will determine everything we need to know in a matter of minutes without being at all invasive. I can assure you no one will be shining bright lights or prodding around down there. No one will even see up your gown."

Hermione stared at it a moment longer.

"I can still just leave, if you want?" Malfoy said and Hermione glanced at him to find him watching her and looking strangely… understanding.

"Erm…" Hermione began.

"Miss Granger, this might be a good moment to point out that you and Mr Malfoy are here to receive fertility treatments that will result in you falling pregnant. I can understand that the two of you might not much like each other at present, but by the night of your wedding, the treatments will override any aversions you have to one another physically. The two of you will have sex, which will mean you will see each other naked, and at some stage you will fall pregnant. It would be best for all involved if you could overcome your modesty and nervousness around one another, especially since Mr Malfoy will be the one helping to take care of you when you are pregnant. I can understand your uncertainty and nervousness, but you do both need to get used to the idea that from here on out, everything about yourselves is going to be shared with each other."

Hermione understood what they were telling her, but the idea of Malfoy being in the same room while anything was poking around in her vagina made her nauseas. Something she expected may become an issue when sex came into play given that sex generally meant _he_ would be the one poking around her vagina and therefore would need to be in the room. Hermione wondered how he would react if she threw up on him.

"I'm just going to wait in the hallway," Malfoy said, when Hermione didn't answer.

Both healers sighed and looked at one another in frustration.

"Very well, Mr Malfoy, rather than the hallway, if you could take this and go through this door over here," Healer Huang pointed, handing him a fluid collection cup, "We need a sperm sample from you."

"What?" Malfoy said, his cheeks turning pink while Hermione blushed too.

"Did you not hear me?" the healer asked him.

"No I did, I just didn't expect…"

"Mr Malfoy we are going to need to test your sperm. In order to do that you can either provide a sample this way or we have a device that will travel up your penis and gather the sample that way, much the way this Pelvic exam device works on Miss Granger. They are about the same size." Healer Underwood said sternly. Hermione watched Malfoy blanch at the very idea of putting anything near his penis the size of a marble.

"Give me the bloody cup," he growled, sounding very lupine as he snatched it before stalking through the door and slamming it behind him

"Are you people purposely trying to make this entire ordeal even more awkward?" Hermione asked them as she moved over and sat in the seat, squirming when Healer Underwood pressed the metal ball to the inside of her knee.

"There is nothing awkward about it Miss Granger. You and Mr Malfoy are expected to participate in sexual intercourse with one another. You are going to have to get used to the idea of him seeing you naked and of the idea that his sperm will be inside you with the intent of making you pregnant." Healer Underwood snapped, "There is no use in being awkward and immature about the matter."

"It's not immaturity to be uncomfortable about these things with someone who has been your enemy for ten years. Someone you haven't spoken to in four years before today." Hermione argued softly, still squirming as the ball rolled up the inside of her thigh.

Healer Underwood took a deep breath in before sighing in out slowly.

"I apologise for snapping, Dear. It's been a long day for all of us and my job isn't made any easier by uncooperative couples," She apologised. "Now then, since we have a moment alone, is there anything you need or want to ask me about what is going to happen to you in the coming future?"

"What's in the fertility treatment you're going to give me?" Hermione asked immediately.

"There are several live ingredients in the treatment, the most important being Gonadotrophins, which stimulates ovulation in women and improves the sperm count in men. In addition to that there are several hormones and chemicals which are often found in foods that have been included in the treatments that stimulate the libido, which will result in you feeling like having sex more often. Almost all of them are found in low levels in common foods like bananas, avocados, asparagus, strawberries and oysters. Since all of you need the treatment increased to speed up the process in time for your wedding next Friday, we've compounded them to ensure you'll be ready by then. There is also a hormone called oxytocin."

"You're giving us the 'love' hormone?" Hermione demanded.

"You've heard of oxytocin?" the healer asked, surprised.

"Of course I have. It's the hormone that engenders trust and fosters love between people. It can actually be taken as a hormone or sprayed on like perfume as a pheromone. My understanding is that it is released in high levels during and after the delivery of a child – which is how women are able to forget about their laborious and painful delivery and care for the child. I read that it's also secreted during orgasm, social recognition and pair bonding. Basically you're giving me something that will make me feel more comfortable being around Malfoy and that will make me more likely to trust him and to form a bond of some kind with him. You're literally giving me something to engender love between us and synthetically creating love."

"It's not a love potion dear," the healer smiled, "You're not going to suddenly fall head over heels in love with Mr Malfoy. Furthermore, children conceived under a love potion aren't able to feel love, and so we do not under any circumstances promote its use. Oxytocin will simply make you more receptive to Mr Malfoy, and will make things between the two of you less awkward. You won't fall in love with him because of it, you'll just feel a little more comfortable and relaxed with him."

"What exact effects will the entire treatment have?" Hermione asked, "I mean, obviously it will make me want to have sex more often and more likely to trust Malfoy and make me more fertile; but will it be specific to Malfoy, or will it make me just want to have sex in general?"

"I should've known you would be the one to ask something like this," Healer Underwood sighed. "A few others have asked about the effects but not quite like this. When your pelvic exam is complete, I'm going to take a blood sample from you, and one from Mr Malfoy when he returns. A small fraction of the sample of Mr Malfoy's DNA will be added to your treatment, and a small fraction of your DNA will be added to his treatment. This will ensure that each couple will only be attracted to one another."

"Isn't that…. I don't know gross? Amoral?" Hermione asked, appalled.

"It's entirely healthy, we make sure of that…. It's a part of the Ministry implementation. It was suggested that if each couple is treated such and therefore only attracted to each other it will speed up the acceptance process."

"But it's so wrong. I mean, who knows maybe eventually, after being married for years, I might actually be genuinely attracted to Malfoy, but won't know it because you'll be drugging me into feeling that way already." Hermione protested.

"After the first child is born to each couple we're going to begin decreasing the dosage, and eventually will phase out adding the DNA of each couple to the treatments. If everything continues normally and the couple continues having children without incident, we won't add it again. If things go sour and the couples stop trying for kids, we'll add the DNA again."

"Well it's nice to know the Ministry is concerned for the mental well-being of the population," Hermione replied sarcastically.

"They are concerned with it Miss Granger. In addition to these treatments each couple will undergo mandatory psych evaluations to ensure no spousal abuse or enmity is happening," Healer Huang commented.

"Was there anything else you wanted to know dear?"

"How is Malfoy being a werewolf going to effect this process? I mean, I know from my job that unless he bites me or any children we have, the curse won't be passed on, but I also know that the genetic make-up of a werewolf causes any who come into contact with their DNA to get a little lupine. If I'm taking a medication with his DNA in it, will I become more lupine?"

"Yes, you will," Healer Underwood answered truthfully, "I believe it was due to your understanding of the werewolf condition that you were paired with Mr Malfoy in the first place. It is also well known that the spouses of werewolves end up somewhat lupine due to the predisposition of the animal within to want to claim their mate. It is likely that when you and Draco Malfoy share intercourse he will bite you. He won't be able to help it, especially given the injections we'll be giving him."

"I told him he's not allowed to bite me," Hermione said.

"Even if he can resist, which is unlikely, you will become somewhat lupine anyway because his DNA will be in your medication." Healer Huang told her, "And speaking from personal experience Hermione, I would recommend letting him bite you. He will become rather violent if he constantly denies the urge to bite you. There are benefits to having him bite you anyway. Letting him do it signifies to the animal within that you are his mate, not just because the bite is a claiming mark but because you accept the mark. If he does bite you, don't mention it to him. The animal within has more control than you are probably aware of and when the animal claims you and you accept that claim it will influence Mr Malfoy's position towards you to be more favourable, overall making your marriage easier."

"How do you know all this?" Hermione asked her.

"My husband is a werewolf," Healer Huang told her, smiling softly, "He was bitten during the war. He tried for months after we were married to resist biting me, and it nearly drove him mad. It actually overrode the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion, so even though he took it dutifully, he still became the monster at the full moon. If you ask Draco to refrain you will drive him mad too and you don't want to get caught in the same house with a werewolf on the full moon who thinks he's going to become the harmless wolf only to become the mindless monster."

"Does it hurt?" Hermione asked, wondering how being bitten during sex could possibly not hurt.

"Yes, the first time hurts a lot. The need to mark you will overcome him and he'll actually grow his fangs during sex when he feels the need to claim you. The first bite is painful. Or it was painful for me, at least, but after that things improve. He'll bite you often, usually in the same place, like this."

Healer Huang moved closer, pulling aside the neck of her healer robes to show Hermione the top of her left shoulder in the apex where it join her neck. The skin was purple and it was obvious she'd been bitten there repeatedly, from several different angles.

"That looks painful," Hermione said, eyeing the fact that the skin on the healer's neck was scabbed over as though she'd been bitten recently.

"Only the first time. After that it improves so much that if he doesn't bite you during sex you'll start to miss it," The healer said.

"Do you have any suggestions about how to live with a pair of werewolves?" Hermione asked weakly.

"A pair?" Healer Underwood asked sharply.

"I have to move into Malfoy Manor. After the war the Malfoy's aren't allowed to leave very often without ministry permission. Lucius is a werewolf too," Hermione explained.

"Oh, I didn't realise…" Healer Underwood said quietly.

"They don't advertise the information," Hermione replied.

"Well living with one is hard enough so I wish you luck living with two. My husband Peter is usually grumpy in the lead up to the full moon because even taking the potion the transformation in painful. He's tired and cranky for a few days afterwards as well. The best thing to do in those situation is to tread lightly, and feed them lots of meat. The thing to realise is that you're not just living with a werewolf. You're living with the wolf, and the man and they have different wants and needs. When he's the wolf – if he takes the potion – he'll want to be close to you and protect you even if the man doesn't want to. I've found the best thing to do is treat him like an overly protective guard dog while he's transformed. The man is still there in his mind but has no control over the wolf. He's not mad, but he's not human either."

Healer Huang explained.

"So just feed him steak and let him growl a lot?" Hermione asked.

"That's what I do. I usually curl up on the couch or in bed with him and read while he lays there protectively. Make sure to move slowly, don't startle him or he will bite you and if he does… well Peter bit me once when I had a nightmare and woke up thrashing and screaming. He was so contrite that I couldn't actually clean the wound because he wouldn't stop licking it and whining and lying on top of me staring at me with puppy eyes."

"Any suggestions for dealing with the moodiness?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, don't hold it against him. Most of the time the moodiness comes from the animal warring with the man even though it's not the full moon. The conflicting needs and wants of beast and man make the man grumpy and snappy, just like a wounded animal. I recommend more meat, and occasional cuddling when he's not expecting it. If he's really snarly leave him alone for a while and let him deal with it. He's been a werewolf for a while now so he'll know what he needs. If he says 'leave me alone' do it because if not he's likely to take his temper out on you, which results in fighting and sometimes that's what the wolf wants. Since there are two of them, they might fight each other, and if so don't interfere with them. Just let them do it. Mostly try not to take offense if he snaps at you or growls at you."

"What happens when I get pregnant and I'm grumpy and tired and snappy and he is too?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

"We'll be managing your pregnancies very carefully Hermione, dear," Healer Underwood assured her, patting her arm comfortingly as though she could see how afraid Hermione was at the idea of having Malfoy's kids. "With your mother's history it is likely that there might be some complications, especially since Narcissa also had trouble conceiving to have children. Miscarriage is likely and it's going to be very hard on you. We're in the process of designing a special medication and dietary routine that we would like you to follow to ensure things don't go wrong. While you're pregnant we'll be keeping a very close eye on you and if need be will separate you and Draco to ensure nothing threatens your chances of healthy pregnancies. It might very well be that things will all go smoothly and be fine, but we'll be on the alert just in case."

"You know, I was happy with the way my life was. I don't think I'm ready for these complications," Hermione confided in them.

Both women looked at her sympathetically.

"I can empathise Hermione. I'm not ready to start having children yet, but I'm in the same boat as you and will be having some sooner than I hoped," Healer Huang told her.

"At least you're in love with your husband though, and got to pick him yourself," Hermione sighed.

"Things will work out in the end, dear" Healer Underwood assured her, "My marriage was arranged when I was young and I hated the boy my father told me I was to marry. I hated him for years, even after my children were born. But now I couldn't imagine my life without him. Believe it or not, Draco will grow on you until one day you'll look at him and realise that amid all the fighting and scowling and children's tantrums and even the sex, you fell in love with him."

"How long did it take for that to happen to you?" Hermione asked her, doubting that she could ever fall in love with Draco Malfoy.

"Almost thirty years. I was eating breakfast one morning at home, Walt sitting at the other end of the table grumbling over some story in the Prophet like he always does, when our granddaughter came running into the room crying about the fact that our grandson had just pulled the head off her favourite dolly. And this man that I had spent so many years arguing and fighting with, hating him and resenting him for the fact that he'd let his father and mine push us into this marriage, leaned right down and picked up that little girl. He told her it would all be alright, kissed her forehead and fixed her dolly while she was still crying."

Healer Underwood sighed.

"While Maria began to giggle and shout happily, hugging him and kissing his grizzled cheeks thankfully, he looked over at me with this pleased, understanding twinkle in his eyes. One that said _'it's because of us together that our little angel is even here'_ and I realised that if he hadn't been my husband, we'd never have our beautiful children and grandchildren to enjoy, we'd never have built the happy, comfortable life we've made together. I realised then that I loved him."

Hermione found herself smiling a little bit "Is your husband by any chance on the Wizengamot?"

"Yes he is. Why?" Healer Underwood asked her.

"He gave us a similar speech, though much less specific when we were all a little irritable about our arranged marriages earlier that even though we might not like it now, it was likely that our spouse would grow on us." Hermione told her.

"What did he say?"

"Oh something along the lines that they'd grow on us, maybe not right away, maybe not until we were looking over the heads of our grandchildren, but that nonetheless we'd one day realise that we loved each other." Hermione said "He also informed the men that all sharp objects should be kept away from pregnant witches and that no matter the argument, they should always admit that their wife is right, even when she's not. He told us girls that nagging men about things was useless and if we wanted to get through to them about things the best way was by cooking something tasty and bribing them with sex."

"Oh that scoundrel!" Healer Underwood cried, though Hermione could see the fondness in her eyes. "But he was probably right dear. You're not in for an easy journey, but there are things you can do to make it better. My most important recommendation is to avoid doing what I did. Don't push your husband away and close yourself off from him. Take the time to get to know him, make sure to show him that even if you're not best friends, you respect him and want to make sure he's happy. In turn he'll do the same for you. The best suggestion is to get to know him better early on, and to learn his favourite food. Cook it often."

Hermione bit her lips realising she had a lot to think about given her looming nuptials.

"Alright dear, your pelvic exam is done, you can sit back in the chair over there and we'll take that blood sample now." Healer Underwood added after a moment and Hermione did as she was told. "Jenny, could you check on Draco and make sure he knows he can come back in if he's finished with his sample."

Hermione hissed in a sharp breath when she felt the needle bite into the inside of her elbow as some of her blood was drawn for testing. She was gritting her teeth against the sting when Malfoy came back into the room looking uncomfortable.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy, excellent. Let's get a blood sample from you now and then we'll do all your measuring and test too. After that I'll give you both your injection and you can be on your way."

"Injection?" He asked.

"Yes, dear. The fertility treatment comes in the form of an injection," She explained, shooting a glance at Hermione that made her think the healer didn't want her to enlighten Draco about the ingredients of the injection. She wasn't surprised and she supposed it would be better for her if Malfoy didn't know the reason he was going to soon be exclusively attracted to her was because of the medication.

Hermione stayed quiet while Malfoy was weighed and measured, noticing that they didn't bother asking his medical history due to the fact that as a pureblood wizard they probably had files on all of his ancestors already and one on him from the time he'd been born.

"Alright excellent," Healer Huang said when everything but the injection was done. "Now, Healer Underwood is going to step out for this part and I'm going to be giving you both your injections. Once we make certain the effects will be fine, you can both go on home."

"I thought you were only the assistant," Malfoy commented rudely and Hermione glared at him.

"I am, but since we're uncertain about the effects this injection will have on you Draco, we're going to make sure everything is safe," Healer Huang told him calmly.

"Meaning what?" Malfoy growled and Hermione caught the lupine flash in his eyes as his temper flared.

"Meaning that Healer Underwood is a little too old to survive the subtle yet encompassing changes that would occur if you were to react badly to the medication and bite her," Healer Huang said, still very calm and Hermione could tell she was used to dealing with touchy werewolves.

"You're the reason I can smell another wolf," Draco accused and Hermione glanced at him in surprise.

"My husband is a werewolf, yes," She nodded, "Now, you should be aware that this injection will boost your fertility but will also heighten your sex-drive. Since it's not been tried on a werewolf before we're unsure if it will awaken the wolf, so you need to be on your guard."

"The wolf's always awake," Malfoy replied, his voice dangerously low now and Hermione found herself watching him curiously, knowing from her experiences at work that such a statement was not made lightly.

"That's not normal," Hermione told him, sharing a nervous glance with Healer Huang.

"It's a side-effect of being bitten by Greyback and living in the same house as another werewolf," Malfoy told them both, "My father and I are in constant battle with the wolf because it doesn't fall asleep between moons."

"But Remus was bitten by Greyback," Hermione began.

"When he was a child, not when he was already an adult. He had a lifetime to learn to leash the beast, most of which was spent shunning all other werewolves. I've been a werewolf for four years and live every day in the same house with one."

"I didn't know that living in close quarters would keep the wolf awake," Hermione said, intrigued and looking at him with interest. He glanced at her and growled warningly.

"I'm not a science experiment so stop looking at me like that Granger," He snapped.

"Sorry. It's just interesting to learn new things. Most werewolves that I work with are solitary." Hermione said, "And not fond of discussing their condition."

"It's a shared trait," Malfoy hinted none too subtly.

"I wonder what keeps the wolf awake," Hermione murmured, her mind already whirring with ideas.

"The pack mentality, Granger. Wolves – real ones – live in packs. When werewolves are solitary the wolf sleeps, when there are other wolves – thereby meaning potential pack-mates – in close quarters, the wolf stays awake."

"Does that mean you have more or less control of the beast?" Hermione asked him, leaning closer to him to speak, her interest getting the best of her.

"Keep asking questions and find out," Malfoy growled nastily and Hermione jerked back from him, realising she was within clawing distance. He sighed in frustration, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. The way he drummed his fingers made Hermione think he must be counting to ten in his mind as he reached for patience.

"It means I have more control because I have to fight the wolf all the time, thereby getting more practice," Malfoy said a moment later, sounding much calmer, "But I don't like discussing my condition so I would appreciate it if you would refrain in future."

"Ok," Hermione said quietly, used to dealing with the temperament of werewolves and so recognising that it was time to back off lest she push him too far and incense the beast. That way led violence. "I'm sorry. I'll not ask any more questions unless they're really important and not just to satisfy my curiosity."

"That would be best," Malfoy replied, his eyes still closed and his face still tipped towards the ceiling.

"Well I think that went well, given the potential for disaster – I speak from personal experience of course – and let me say my own experiences were far less controlled than this. Now then, let's get on with these injections shall we?"

Hermione held still when Healer Huang came towards her, a needle at the ready. She frowned when she caught sight of the colour of her injection, which was a rich shade of gold that look suspiciously like lupine gold to Hermione. She noticed that the injection for Malfoy was vivid shade of purple.

When the needle pushed into her arm it stung and Hermione bit her lip as the fluid in the syringe was forced into her system. She could feel the sharp sting of her body reacting to the invasion and the underlying zing of magic. As Healer Huang withdrew the needle again, Hermione groaned softly while her whole body began to quiver in what she suspected was a reaction either to the ingredients of the injection or to the fact that werewolf DNA had just been forced into her system. Hermione dug her nails into the wooden handles of her chair and gritted her teeth against the tingling that overtook her body in a matter of moments when the injection reached her bloodstream, pumped through her heart and then to everywhere in her body.

"Is she having an allergic reaction?" Malfoy asked and if she hadn't been in pain Hermione might've been touched that he actually sounded mildly concerned.

"I don't believe so. Hermione, do you feel woozy or light-headed? Like you might vomit?"

"No," Hermione gasped, "It just stings and tingles, like pins-and-needles all over."

"That's normal. It will pass shortly, I promise."

Hermione opened her eyes to see the significant glance Healer Huang gave her that said it was the effect of werewolf DNA and not the rest of the injection.

"Why was hers gold when mine is purple?" Hermione heard Malfoy ask suspiciously.

"The active ingredients are different based on your gender, because different hormones need to be used to stimulate the fertility and libido in males and females. Hermione's was gold because hers was tailored for her, yours is purple because yours is filled with active ingredients specific to males. It's such a vivid colour because yours needs to be stronger than others to overcome your heightened immune system. Yours might sting a little too because your antibodies are going to attack the serum."

She explained before picking up the syringe and moving towards Draco.

"If I start to growl," Malfoy said, holding up his hand to fend off the injection while he spoke, "Get out of the room as fast as you can."

"I have a sedative ready in case things go badly Draco," Healer Huang assured him. Hermione saw him nod before he held his arm out to be given the injection. Healer Huang was quick about it and stepped back in a hurry the moment she pulled the needle back out of his arm even as Malfoy's head fell forward onto his chest.

Hermione watched him, her body still tingling madly as he began to pant, his hands tightening on the handles of his chair until the wood began to groan.

"Hermione, get up and walk slowly towards the door," Healer Huang instructed her, still sounding calm but looking slightly panicked.

A feral snarl ripped through the air the second Hermione moved and she glanced at Healer Huang to see she had a small tranquiliser gun aimed at Malfoy.

"I think maybe it would be for the best if you step out," Hermione said softly, noticing the way the predator within Malfoy began to vibrate at the threat of the weapon trained on him.

"Are you mad?" Huang asked her whilst staring at her as though doubting her sanity.

"I think it's the smell of Peter on you and the weapon that's upsetting him," Hermione told her, "And that stuff was meant to make him like me more."

"What if he attacks you?"

"I've survived worse. Get out," Hermione said when Malfoy began to snarl some more.

Huang must've decided she was right because Hermione heard the door open and then close again, her own gaze now trained on Malfoy, waiting to see if he was getting control of himself or if he was about to attack her.

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked softly, his growling having stopped now that Huang was out of the room. She slipped out of her chair, wondering if maybe she was a little barmy as she began to creep towards the werewolf.

Hermione squeaked in surprise when she was close enough to touch him as he shot up out of his chair, knocking it over backwards even as he seized hold of her upper arms in a grip so tight she knew she'd have bruises tomorrow. In spite of the fear, Hermione could feel the drugs in her system working on her because the feel of his skin on hers made her body tingle again, only this time it was pleasurable instead of painful.

Hermione felt her blood run cold as she gulped and looked up into his face to meet eyes that had changed from cold-silver to a hungry lupine-gold.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Easy Malfoy," Hermione said, keep her voice soft and low, working to push her fear away, knowing it would incite the wolf and make it harder for him to get back in control.

"You smell good," Malfoy murmured and Hermione shuddered, realising his eyes were fixed on her lips, "I thought I told you to get out if I growled."

"You didn't growl until I tried to get out," Hermione whispered and she realised that though his eyes were still gold, Malfoy had temporarily leashed the wolf. "Are your eyes supposed to be gold?"

"No. I think it's the drug… I feel…" He trailed off as his gaze travelled down her body and back up to her lips again, heat evident in his gaze.

"Yeah, I know. But can you let go? You're hurting me," Hermione asked in a small voice, sighing when his grip loosened until it was barely a touch at all.

"Why do you smell so good?"

"Because they drugged you to make me smell good to you," Hermione told him, staring up into his face and feeling concerned by how much time she'd spent in such close quarters to him today.

"This is going to be the weirdest marriage in existence," Malfoy murmured to her.

"Possibly," Hermione agreed, wondering if it was the drugs making them both placid.

"You're still not afraid of me, are you?" he asked, sounding as though he was surprised to learn it.

"No. At least, not for the reasons you think I should be," Hermione replied.

Malfoy cocked his head to one side the same way her neighbour's dog used to when she'd talk to it through the fence.

"If it's not because I'm a werewolf and was a Death Eater, then what are you afraid of?" He asked, his voice low and almost gentle as though it bothered him that she might be afraid of him for some other reason.

"We're supposed to have sex with the intention of getting me pregnant," Hermione whispered, "And I don't want to be pregnant."

"Which is going to be difficult to avoid given the drugs they just gave us," Malfoy agreed with a nod and Hermione realised he must be affected by them.

"And I'm afraid to be naked in front of you," Hermione blurted out, figuring she might as well tell him while he was affected since he was less likely to be smug.

"That's because you haven't seen _me_ naked," he told her, his nose twitching repeatedly and making Hermione suspect he was breathing in as much of her scent as he could.

"I'm afraid of that too," she admitted in a whisper.

"If they keep giving us this stuff," Malfoy whispered, "Neither of us are going to be even passingly aware of being naked come Friday."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Hermione said quietly.

"We should get drunk at the reception," Malfoy told her, grinning now.

"That was my plan," Hermione replied.

"You smell too good," Malfoy whispered, "Can I…?"

He trailed off as he stepped closer, his hands slipping around her back as he leaned forwards and buried his nose in her hair. Hermione held her breath, holding perfectly still as he gave in to what the wolf within currently wanted, breathing her in. His grip was light, his nose ticklish as he sniffed down the side of her neck and along the exposed skin displayed by the loose tie on her gown. Goose-pimples pebbled on her skin and Hermione shuddered at the ticklish sensation, hating the fact that the drugs in her system made her want to stand there and let him rather than pulling away.

"We should get dressed," Hermione murmured when he stopped sniffing her and instead nipped her collarbone very gently, sending her system into overdrive as the drugs seized upon her libido and clearly found the fact that no one had touched her this way since she'd broken up with Ron nearly three years ago, entirely unacceptable.

"Or undressed," he suggested sounding like he was in a trance.

"Malfoy," Hermione warned softly, "We have to do that soon enough, let's not get overexcited… I think maybe they increased your dosage by too much."

"I think they did too because I kind of want to press you into that wall, tear this gown off you and have my way with you," Malfoy admitted and Hermione hated the fact that her heart rate quickened at the suggestion.

"Well, you'll have to wait until next Friday night," Hermione told him, stepping out of his reach slowly, so as not to startle the wolf.

"Spoil sport," Hermione heard him mutter. Hermione grinned when he followed her into the hallway and didn't mention any more disturbing ideas even as she closed the door to her cubicle and changed quickly into her jeans and jumper again. She felt much better when she was wearing real clothes rather than nothing but a flimsy gown.

When she returned to the examination room both Healer's had come back inside.

"I think you need to lower Malfoy's dosage," Hermione told them both seriously, "He's practically in a trance right now."

Proving her point, Malfoy sauntered into the room and walked right up behind her, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. Hermione shuddered at the ticklish feel of his nose skimming over her skin.

"I see what you mean. We'll make sure to decrease the dosage so he's still in control. Did he hurt you?"

"Only a little when he grabbed me too tight," Hermione murmured, not mentioning that she still hand red hand prints around both biceps.

"Alright well then, I think for now the best option would be for the two of you to go home. Your next appointment is scheduled for two days from now at six-twenty again. We'll make sure to alter Mr Malfoy's dosage," Healer Underwood said, smiling kindly as Hermione tried to patiently tolerate the fact that Malfoy had wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him once again, still sniffing at her neck.

When she felt his hands creeping towards the hem of her jumper and felt his lips replace the tip of his nose against her skin, Hermione sighed and stopped him.

"Come on Malfoy," Hermione said, attempting to step out of his embrace and finding that though his grip on her was gentle and non-threatening, it was like a steel-vice cage around her, keeping her from being able to escape him.

"Where are we going?" he murmured against her neck and Hermione suspected he'd picked the spot he would no doubt bite her when they were forced to consummate their marriage when he licked her again. Right at the top of her shoulder where it joined her neck in a spot that a bite mark would be visible from both sides, he licked her again and Hermione pretended not to notice the fact that her body was tingling more insistently now.

"We're going home," Hermione told him.

"But you don't live at my home yet," he replied and Hermione glanced helplessly at the pair of Healers.

"He probably shouldn't be alone until this trance-like state wears off enough and I shudder to think what would happen to him if he tried to Apparate at the moment. You may need to take him to your place or go on some kind of date with him until it wears off," Healer Huang told her seriously.

"Why do I feel like you gave him too much on purpose when you say things like that?" Hermione asked the healer dubiously.

"Because after the day you've had it's natural to be suspicious of everything," Healer Underwood told her, "But I promise we didn't do it on purpose. I honestly thought his immune system would fight it harder than this."

"It may have to do with the fact that his wolf's always awake," Healer Huang told her.

"My, but that is strange. I've always been fascinated by the werewolf curse. It's going to be interesting to study it up close working with you and Draco over the years, Hermione."

Malfoy began to growl softly at the mention of being studied.

"He doesn't like to talk about it apparently," Hermione told the healer when she flinched at the threat.

"You two go on now, and we'll see you on Saturday evening," the Healers said and Hermione took an experimental step forwards, breathing a sigh of relief when Malfoy dropped his arms from around her and followed her out the door.

"Oh Hermione, there you are!" Ginny said, perking up at the sight of her when Hermione walked back out into the lobby with Malfoy on her heels. Blaise was sitting in a seat beside her though he seemed to be pretending Ginny didn't exist.

"I thought maybe you'd already finished and gone home but when I asked they said there might've been a complication with you treatment. Is everything ok?"

"Yes, everything's fine. They doubled or maybe tripled the dosage they gave to Malfoy because they thought his werewolf genetics would fight the injections and it didn't really work. He got snarly with the Healers and they had to leave the room. He's in something of a lust-induced trance. Apparently I'm not allowed to leave him wandering around like a lost puppy or let him apparate in case he splinches himself."

Due to the fact that she was once again standing still, Malfoy came right up behind her again and Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks when he bent down to lick the side of her neck again.

"Oh Merlin", Blaise commented "What did they do to him? He might as well be a bloody lap-dog!"

"Too many libido- increasing hormones," Hermione told him, "I was kind of hoping I'd be able to talk the two of you into coming to dinner with me since I'm not allowed to just leave him and it makes me nervous to think about what he might do if I take him to our place until it wears off."

Ginny nodded her understanding, "We can't just leave him."

"Are you sure you can't take him to your place?" Blaise asked, sounding very much like he wanted to get out of spending any more time near Ginny than necessary.

"He told me in there that he wanted to push me up against the wall, tear off my hospital gown and shag me," Hermione replied, fixing a serious glare at Blaise, "So no, I can't take him to my place since if the drugs hit his system any harder as they flood his body, it's unlikely that I would be able to stop him should he decide that he wanted to have his way with me."

"I wouldn't rape you," Draco told her quietly, his voice growly.

"Ah bollocks, look at his eyes!" Blaise commented, suddenly noticing the lupine-gold in Malfoy's normally grey stare, "Alright fine, let's find a pub, I'm hungry anyway. Draco, mate we're getting some food. I could use a drink after today anyway."

When Blaise moved over to try and take Malfoy's shoulder and steer him towards the exit, Malfoy snarled savagely again.

"Maybe don't get too close?" Hermione suggested.

"I've got it under control, just… not so close," Malfoy confirmed, and Hermione felt his hands pressing against the small of her back as he added, "Walk, wifey. I'm hungry."

"I told you not to call me that!" Hermione growled back at him, annoyed when Ginny giggled.

"Mmm your scent gets stronger when you're angry," Malfoy practically purred.

"Gods, Draco you need help!" Hermione heard Blaise say from behind her.

"I'm not going to disagree," Malfoy said.

"It's like you want me to hex you and leave you bleeding on the sidewalk," Hermione said over her shoulder at the insult.

"Are you talking dirty to me wifey?" he asked, smirking at her, his eyes still bright gold. So bright in fact that they glowed a little in the darkened street as they exited the building.

"We're going to have to go somewhere brightly lit or you're going to scare all the muggles with those eyes".

Hermione glanced at Ginny who looked over her shoulder at Draco too and gasped in surprise.

"This might be the weirdest thing I've ever done," Ginny said as they strolled through the dimly lit streets side-by-side with Malfoy and Zabini trailing along behind them.

"No it's not," Hermione told her, "Remember that time Fred dared you to bite that gnome in the garden at the Burrow?"

"Oh Merlin I'd forgotten about that," Ginny said, laughing as Hermione reminded her of the time. They'd been de-gnoming Mrs Weasley's garden and one of the gnomes had bitten Ginny in protest of being tugged out of the ground. She'd cursed and been about to lob it over the fence when Fred had suggested biting it back to teach it not to bite anymore. He'd even told her he'd done it himself many times and hadn't been bitten since.

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever done 'Mione?" Ginny asked her, clearly trying to break the awkward silence.

"I don't know…. Maybe ridden that dragon out of Gringotts?" Hermione suggested.

"No that would be the coolest and possibly scariest," Blaise quipped and Hermione glanced at Ginny noticing the way the red-head grinned a little more to hear him actually speaking.

"Well then I'm not sure. What about you Zabini? What's the weirdest thing you've ever done?" Hermione asked him, ignoring the way Malfoy growled somewhat possessively.

"I dunno, I went swimming the in Black lake and tried to get a mermaid to kiss me once," Blaise admitted.

"Why?" Ginny asked, sounding appalled and glancing over her shoulder at him with a confused expression on her face.

"I wanted to see if they really were sirens," Blaise shrugged.

"What about you Malfoy? What's the weirdest thing you've ever done?"

"Licked you in public," Malfoy answered, sounding amused.

"That's not the weirdest thing you've ever done Draco," Blaise scoffed, "I saw you eat a bacon, vegemite and apricot-jam sandwich once."

"Why did you bring that up?" Malfoy asked, sounding sad, "Now I'm even hungrier."

"Oh, you are so damaged," Hermione sighed, looking over her shoulder at him.

"No need to be nasty wifey, you don't even have a weird thing," Malfoy replied.

"Wait, Hermione you do. Remember that time you used polyjuice potion in second year and turned yourself into Millicent Bulstrode's cat by accident?" Ginny asked her.

"Why would you even try to use animal hair in a polyjuice potion?" Blaise asked sounding distressed.

"Why would you use the hair of Millicent's cat?" Draco asked, sounding disgusted.

"It wasn't supposed to be cat hair. I was supposed to be transforming into Bulstrode while Harry and Ron turned into Crabbe and Goyle so we could interrogate Malfoy….. oh bollocks!" Hermione cursed when Malfoy grabbed her, snarling now.

"Those sods interrogated me?" he demanded furiously.

"Oops," Ginny muttered.

Hermione sighed, "It was in second year when we thought you were the one opening the Chamber of Secrets."

"You brewed Polyjuice Potion in second year?" Zabini asked, sounding a little awed.

"Yes. In a cauldron in the Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione explained, squirming a little in Malfoy's tight hold.

"They interrogated me!?" he snarled, clearly still stuck on that.

"It was years and years ago and it was one time. After you threatened my life by saying mudbloods would be next when Mrs Norris was petrified and then went on about the last time the Chamber was opened a mudblood died and how you hoped this time it would be me who died!" Hermione snapped at him, "So get off your damn high horse and let go of me Malfoy!"

"What happened when you turned into a cat?" Zabini asked, seeming entirely unconcerned by Malfoy's hold on her.

"I grew cat hair all over my body, grew a tail and cat ears and whiskers. Madame Pomfrey had to fix it," Hermione told him, resisting the urge to stomp on Malfoy's foot when he nipped the patch of skin he'd been licking all afternoon.

"What else did you and your friends do to me that I don't know about?" Malfoy demanded on you.

"Spied on you in sixth year at your initiation into the Death Eater ranks," Hermione told him, earning another growl, "Outwitted you countless times when you tried to get us into trouble and generally made a nuisance of yourself; punched you for being such a wanker about Buckbeak even though it was your own fault he attacked you; got your father thrown in Azkaban by plotting with Rita Skeeter in retaliation for all the lies and rumours you had her spread in the Prophet about me in fourth year. Should I continue?"

"Sometimes, I forget just how much animosity there really is in the history between you two," Ginny commented, clearly having forgotten several of the incidents Hermione was referring too.

"Malfoy if you lick me one more time I'm going to turn around and knee you in the groin," Hermione said, growing impatient with the grumpy, lusty werewolf.

"Can you two deal with this foreplay later? I'm hungry," Zabini cut in sounding bored.

"Foreplay?" Ginny asked him sarcastically, "Really?"

"A good argument always got you in the mood," Zabini shot back while Ginny gasped before Blaise himself paled considerably, glancing at Hermione and Malfoy, both of whom had turned to look at him in shock for his words.

"Well, now that the cat's out of the bag," Malfoy drawled, having released Hermione after her threats, "Do let's explore that particular secret. Mind telling me how you kept that secret so long?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione warned, watching poor Ginny turn redder and redder even though she was looking at Blaise in horror and perhaps a little intrigue for having outed that secret.

"What? I'm curious. I like to know things and I don't think there's a bigger secret around than Blaise and the Weaselette getting it on for more than a year under our noses without anyone finding out."

"You knew already?" Blaise asked before slanting an accusatory glare at Ginny who turned accusing eyes on Hermione.

"Oh Merlin. Ginny told me when I saw how you two were acting weird… and I might've blurted it out to Malfoy while I was still tipsy earlier because we'd been talking about it at the Ministry today," Hermione explained.

"You get in hot water a lot, don't you wifey?" Draco asked her sounding somewhat flippant and kind of like he wanted to sniff her some more, "That's what you get for being such a nosey know-it-all."

"You told them?" Blaise asked icily, his gaze still fixed angrily on Ginny.

"Girls do that," Malfoy interrupted before Ginny could defend herself, "And I've seen the way you've been ignoring Weaselette, she was bound to complain it about it to the know-it-all, looking for advice."

"You know, I think I prefer it when you're growling incomprehensibly to when you actually speak," Hermione told Malfoy, eyeing him irritably.

"Maybe you need a dog instead of a husband then," Malfoy suggested nastily.

"I'm getting both rolled into one," Hermione retorted and Malfoy snarled at her again, "Look you two, I know you have unresolved issues, but can we discuss them over dinner. I'm starving."

"Me too," Malfoy stopped snarling long enough to inject into the conversation, perking up considerably at the idea of food.

"I think I'd rather go home," Zabini said coldly and Hermione scowled when Ginny looked crestfallen.

"You're not going home or I'm going to eat Granger," Malfoy told his friend.

"Like I care?" Zabini said and Hermione considered hexing him.

"Are you going to stop being a jerk sometime this century?" Ginny demanded and Hermione glanced at her friend smiling when she noticed that Ginny had finally lost her temper about Zabini ignoring her.

"Don't go there Ginevra," Blaise growled warningly.

"Or you'll what? You've been ignoring me and pouting over this for years! Get over it and realise that nine days from now you're not only going to have to talk to me and bloody well marry me, you're going to have to fuck me as well!"

"I've always preferred dinner with my show," Malfoy murmured into Hermione's ear and Hermione quivered when she felt his lips brush against the sensitive shell of her ear, his hands finding her waist again and making Hermione very much aware of the hormones quickly engulfing her body.

"Did you consider that maybe I don't want to?" Zabini snapped at Ginny, "That maybe I want nothing to do with you?"

"You don't have a bloody choice!" Ginny screeched at him, "So get over it already! I was an idiot and I should've damn well picked you over Harry but I didn't. I know I should've. I've known since the minute you walked away from me with that cold stare that I should've fucking picked you but every time I tried to contact you since then I got nothing back! You're acting like a spoiled teenager pouting over this!"

"You're going to call me spoiled in this?" Zabini growled in a tone that matched Malfoy's lupine ferocity.

"Yes!" Ginny snapped, "You're acting like a child who got his toy taken away from him."

"Oh my toy wasn't taken away from me," Zabini snarled, "She turned her back on me and everything we had in favour of some ten year old's dream of a happy future with a celebrity!"

"Did you just call me a toy?" Ginny snarled right back at him.

"Yeah I did. Something fun to pick up and play with, but ultimately worthless now that I've reached adulthood," Blaise snapped at her.

Hermione flinched as the resounding crack of Ginny's hand on Blaise's cheek echoed across the deserted street where they stood. She saw the way Zabini glared down at Ginny furiously, snatching up her wrists and squeezing them in a way that looked painful for Ginny.

"What did I tell you about hitting me?" He snapped at her.

"What are you going to do about it?" Ginny challenged.

"Nothing. I'm not some horny teenager anymore Ginevra."

"I feel like one," Malfoy said, loud enough to interrupt them and making Hermione suspect he was trying to keep Blaise from saying something he might regret for the rest of his life.

"You're acting like one too," Hermione informed him when he tried to slip his hand under the hem of her jumper again.

"What is it exactly that you want from me Zabini?" Ginny demanded, "I've already apologised several times. I'm sorry that I didn't run away with you. I'm not sorry that I stayed and fought in the battle and helped my family and friends. I _am_ sorry that I didn't realise I bloody well loved you until you'd already given up on me but so far I'm not seeing any way to undo what happened! So it would be really helpful if you could fucking tell me what is it that you want so I can bloody well make you happy!"

"Now you're going to try and tell you loved me?" Blaise growled, and even Hermione could hear the anger covering the hurt in his tone, "If you loved me I would've been more to you than a place-filler whenever Potter didn't want you!"


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Dinner felt awkward.

Hermione glanced around the table at her companions. Since there were only four of them, and since Malfoy was still too dosed up on hormones to reasonably sit anywhere that wasn't right next to Hermione, Ginny had been forced to sit next to Blaise. The silence between them strained uncomfortably and Hermione felt bad for her friend.

She was in a sticky situation and it hadn't been entirely unfair of Blaise to be hurt and argumentative over the fact that the history between Blaise and Ginny was a tangled mess of hurt feelings and conflicting emotions. They hadn't even ordered dinner yet and Hermione was already wishing they could all just go home.

The fact that Malfoy kept trying to put his hand on her knee under the table wasn't helping and the rowdy pub-goers weren't helping improve the mood. Ginny and Blaise had been forced to sit side by side, but they refused to even look at each other. Hermione couldn't tell if they needed to scream at each other some more or if they needed a good snog to get it out of their systems. It was driving her crazy.

"Malfoy, seriously, just stop," Hermione said when he tried for the fourth consecutive time since sitting down to put his hand on her knee.

"Are you always this much of a prude Granger?" He complained though he looked like he was only teasing her, "Maybe they should give you my dosage instead of triple dosing me."

"You'd prefer me slobbering after you?" Hermione asked him levelly.

"At least I know how to deal with you slobbering after me. This is new territory for me," He told her truthfully and Hermione raised her eyebrows when he actually managed to elicit a snort of amusement from Blaise who'd clearly been counting the seconds until he could leave.

"Do you mean you've never chased a girl before?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Never had to," Malfoy replied evenly, his eyes still glowing gold as he peered into her face, "And more importantly, if I ever did have to, it would be because I wanted to rather than because they gave me too high a dosage, thereby making me want to lay you out on that bar and…."

Hermione muffled the rest of whatever he meant to say by clapping her hand over his mouth. She was already feeling the effects of the injection and the fact that he couldn't seem to keep his hands off her even when he tried wasn't helping matters. Hermione had already gotten him to try sitting on them but it hadn't worked, he'd ended up putting his hand on her thigh and then holding her hand when she'd pulled him away.

"You've really got it bad mate," Blaise commented, "Just exactly what did they put in your injection?"

"Something called Gonadotrophins, which increases ovulation and sperm counts, combined with a bunch of aphrodisiacal hormones and compounds, then they tripled the dosage they gave to everyone else to combat the werewolf immune system," Hermione answered.

"Couldn't resist knowing that either, eh Wifey?" Malfoy smirked at her and Hermione wondered if the injection was beginning to wear off or if it was getting worse.

"I like knowing things," Hermione retorted, "Anyway in addition to that there are a few things targeting gender specifically, meaning that in yours there was probably a bunch of stuff to make sure your swimmers are strong and healthy. In ours Ginny, there are also a combination of vitamins and pro-biotics to ensure that we're healthy for bearing children."

"Do we have to talk about this when I'm trying to think about food?" Ginny asked and Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes, knowing the red-head was just mad at Zabini.

"Speaking of food I'm still starving, can we order?" Malfoy asked and Hermione gritted her teeth when he shuffled impossibly closer and leant towards her as though he meant to nibble on her while he waited for his meal.

"Do you know what you want?" Hermione asked before immediately regretting it when his eyes lit up even brighter and a wolfish smirk curled across his face.

"You laid out naked on a big soft bed while I….." Hermione covered his mouth again, muffling the rest of his sentence and glaring at him when he licked the palm of her hand.

"Gods Malfoy, stop it or I'm going to completely lose my appetite," Ginny complained, "This was such a bad idea Hermione. Can't we just go home? I'm sure Zabini can see Malfoy home without incident."

Blaise glared at her while Hermione hissed through her teeth when Malfoy began to snarl like a rabid wolf at the idea of Hermione going anywhere. He didn't seem to be able to help it even though he did seem to be trying to.

"Oh this is ridiculous!" Ginny snapped, her long hair beginning to crackle with magic in her agitated state, "I'm getting a drink, 'Mione what kind of cocktail do you want?"

"I've got a cocktail you might…" Hermione covered Malfoy's mouth again, cutting him off and realising she was going to need large quantities of alcohol to deal with any more of his lewd suggestions.

"I'm going to need several White Russians," Hermione replied.

"What are they?" Malfoy asked, managing to pry her hand off his face long enough to ask.

"Vodka, Kahlua and cream in a glass designed to make me forget this entire day ever happened," Hermione told him.

"You're right. That's what we need. Do you think if I smile really nice the bar-keep will make us several jugs of them?" Ginny said and Hermione didn't miss the way Blaise eyeballed his ex-playmate/new fiancé.

"Give it a go," Hermione grinned, "Tell them we're ready to order too."

"I can make you forget today ever happened," Malfoy murmured to her as Ginny stalked through the crowed pub and over to the bar where she began flirting with the cute muggle bar-keep while Blaise watched on looking moody.

"Then I'd need even more alcohol to forget whatever it is you have in mind to help me forget," Hermione told him. It bothered her a little that he was clearly so affected by the injection and it bothered her a whole lot that she couldn't tell if it was because of her own injection or because her body was simply reacting to being touched after so much neglect.

All Hermione knew was that come next Friday she wasn't going to care about the fact that they'd been enemies for ten years or that he was an arrogant, smug prat who'd been cruel to her at Hogwarts. If they kept dosing them both with so many hormones Hermione had no doubt that she'd be more than willing to jump his bones, especially if he kept making such lewd suggestions regarding all the things he'd currently like to do to her.

"Could you put a lid on it Draco?" Blaise asked grumpily just as Malfoy opened his mouth to no doubt suggest something improper.

"It's not my fault your witch is mad at you," Malfoy told him, "You're the one who called her a toy and then told her she used you like some harpy."

"She's the one…" Blaise began to snap before clenching his fist and closing his mouth, a muscle in his jaw beginning to tick.

Hermione watched him for a moment, not really noticing that Malfoy had intertwined his fingers with hers while she'd been trying to fight him off. Zabini looked royally pissed off, his eyes still fixed on Ginny who was giggling with the bar-keep while he mixed them up a jug of White Russian.

"Zabini, I'm not going to try and tell you how to feel or how to go about dealing with all this but you should know something," Hermione began, watching her friend to make sure she was still busy.

"And what's that Granger?" Zabini grumbled, "Do tell how a little know-it-all would deal with my situation."

Malfoy growled at him warningly and Hermione sighed wondering if that was a trait she was going to have to learn to live with.

"Ginny told me everything Blaise, and I completely understand that you're upset with her and if you're not ready to accept her apology that's up to you, but there are a few things she didn't tell you. A few things she would probably never willingly admit to you, in fact, but since the two of you are going to be married in nine days and have to spend the rest of your lives together - and are one of the few couples with a very real shot not just at happiness but also at being head over heels in love – I'm going to tell you them," Hermione said sternly, noticing that Blaise kept one eye trained on Ginny even as he turned towards Hermione, almost giving her his full attention.

"Do share," he said, still watching Ginny flirt with the bar-keep.

"When she was telling me about your past interactions, she told me that there was something about you that made her feel in ways no one else _ever_ has. That no matter how upsetting things were or how stressed or worried she was, you had this way of making her forget all about all of it with just a look or a touch. She also said that she regrets having chased Harry for so long but that it had been something she'd been doing since the minute she met him and so felt it was expected. She said that she realised as you were walking away from her at the Final Battle, just how deeply she cares for you."

"If any of that were true she wouldn't have spent the afternoon getting drunk with you over the idea of marrying me," Blaise replied, clearly not believing her.

"Did you consider the fact that she's spent the entire day worrying over the fact that you two are to be married and she's terrified you'll never forgive her? That she got drunk with me because I got stuck with this sod," Hermione nudged Malfoy, "And because she's been stressing over what she can say or do to make things right between the two of you. Did you ever think for even a moment, while you've been walking around carrying all these hurt feelings over the fact that you put her in a position where she had to choose not just between you and Harry but between you and everyone else she loves, that she's been dealing with her own conflicted emotions over this?"

"You're suggesting that the reason she chose Potter over me was my fault? Not just once, but twice she picked him and went running to him the minute he called," Blaise said, his tone icy.

"I'm suggesting that you chose a poor moment to ask her to make a decision regarding her feelings for you Zabini. My understanding is that the two of you had been messing around during her fifth year and that you brooked no argument when she and Harry got together over the summer between our sixth and seventh year. Things with Harry didn't work out for her, something she was confused and hurt over given the fact that Harry broke things off with her because he wanted to keep her safe whilst fighting Voldemort," Hermione said, hissing when Malfoy flinched and squeezed the hand he was holding hard enough to hurt.

Zabini shuddered as well and Malfoy growled softly under his breath.

"From there the two of you got back together when you both returned to Hogwarts, correct?" Hermione asked him seriously, eyeing Ginny who was still talking to the bar-keep while he fixed a second jug of alcohol for their table. Blaise nodded curtly.

"And you both got understandably tangled up in each other during the year leading up to the war, as was entirely reasonable. My point is that you brooked no argument with her the first time around when things between you came to a close. Is it so surprising that she was holding back? That she was denying even to herself how much she might care for you given that you'd let her walk away once already without batting an eye about it?" Hermione said, pausing as she tried to extricate her hand from Malfoy's grip when she noticed he'd lifted their joined hands and had begun nuzzling against the soft skin at the inside of her wrist.

Hermione sighed when he growled softly, eyeing her lips hungrily again.

"What are you getting at here Granger? How is any of this supposed to fix things? Either way she still picked Potter over me and she's only marrying me because we're being forced by this bloody law. She's not even spoken to me in years before today," Blaise told her grumpily.

"Did she not attempt to contact you and apologise? Did she not write to you saying she was sorry and that she'd like to see you?" Hermione challenged him, "And don't you dare shake your head at me Zabini because I know she did and you didn't respond in any way. Is it so surprising that she stopped trying when you rebuffed her? All she had to go on was a turmoil-riddled relationship – most of which was entirely physical – and the knowledge that you'd not once tried to fight for her or really indicated that you wanted to be with her."

"I asked her to come with me, didn't I?" Blaise demanded, "I told her to be safe, I even told her that I'd have given her everything."

"And you did so in the middle of a bloody war!" Hermione snapped growing exasperated, "You sprung the choice on her and it wasn't just that you said 'do you want me or Harry?' you asked her to turn her back on her beliefs and on her entire family and group of loved ones while they were in the middle of fighting for their lives. You asked one of the bravest women I have ever met to turn tail and cower, to flee and hide while her loved ones died. You picked the worst possible moment to spring the information that you love her on the poor girl, and you've been pouting about it since."

"I have not been pouting," Blaise snarled, "And I damn well asked her if it had always been Potter for her. She didn't deny it! And then she got back together with him!"

"You do realise that she fell in love with Harry when she was ten years old, don't you?" Hermione asked him seriously, "That she spent most of her time at Hogwarts pining after him, not because he's famous or good at Quidditch but because she fancied his personality. She'd spent years and years loving him and you're going to get you wand in a knot because she wanted to pursue an affection she'd been harbouring for years?"

"He broke up with her!" Blaise snapped, "Then she comes back to me like it was nothing. Am I supposed to just ignore the fact that for all that she 'loved' him, she gave her virginity to me? That she was more than happy to sneak around with me, no doubt knowing that if Wonder-Boy found out, he'd be furious? Then she just runs back to him as though everything she had with me was just filling in time waiting for sodding Potter!"

Hermione wanted to growl in frustration and shake the stubborn boy!

"She'd spent years loving Harry, you dunderhead! Of course she was going to try and make things work with him! Do you know what it's like to love someone for years and not even have them notice you for most of it?" Hermione demanded, relating very well to this particular part of Ginny's past due to the fact that she herself had loved Ron from third year onwards.

"Yeah, actually Granger, I do," Blaise replied, glaring at her, "Because I was damn well in love with _her_ and she was too busy chasing Potter to notice me."

"Then you know how it feels like an incredible waste of time to just give up on that kind of dedication after spending so long chasing something," Hermione told him sternly, "So yes, when they finally had the chance to be together without the threat of Voldemort taking over the world and killing Harry and everyone else who opposed him, they tried it. You can't hold it against them!"

"Yes I can, because she should've realised that I'm better for her and loved her a whole lot more than he ever did," Blaise snapped.

"Perhaps you'll notice then that it didn't work out and that she's been single since?" Hermione narrowed her eyes on the stubborn idiot.

"Perhaps you'll notice I was single too and she didn't pursue anything with me," Zabini retorted.

"She wrote to you and you ignored her!" Hermione said raising her voice a little as she lost her temper with him, "You are justified in being hurt over the fact that she didn't realise sooner that you cared for her and that she didn't realise until it was too bloody late that she cared about you too. That's understandable. What isn't understandable is the fact that you are jeopardising your second chance with her by pouting like a teenager over a mistake she made four years ago! One you contributed to by not being honest with her sooner and by not understanding her feelings."

"So I'm just supposed to forget that at every turn she's found a reason not to be with me?"

"Maybe instead of focusing on the past you could try focusing on who she is and how she feels about you now. Obviously not right _now_ since you stupidly picked a fight with her. For God's sake just stop holding your past against her!" Hermione commanded.

"You mean you want me to focus on the fact that she's over there flirting with that muggle and planning to get rip-roaring drunk in order to deal with the fact that she has to marry me?" Blaise asked sarcastically and Hermione had never want to throttle anyone so much in her entire life. Not even Ronald.

"You pissed her off! What did you think she was going to do, curl up in your lap and purr like some contrite kitten?" Hermione snapped at him, "You called her a sodding toy Zabini, of course she's over there trying to make you jealous so you'll snap the hell out of it! For God's sake Blaise you have to marry the woman and she's actually happy about that fact! So much so that when I suggested to her that I hoped this was all a nightmare I would wake up from, she told me that if it was, I had to tell her so she could hunt you down and get back together with you! Do you understand that? Everyone else has been completely screwed over by this fucking marriage law and instead of being sad about it that girl has been secretly fantasising all afternoon about the names you two will give your fucking children and what it will be like to snog you again! So I suggest you grow the hell up because if you two don't sort out your issues and I have to go home and listen to her cry into her pillow when she thinks I can't hear her, I'm going to curse a neck-tie into strangling you at the fitting tomorrow!"

"It's not that simple," Blaise argued, his voice low now and Hermione could see his mind working as he processed what it was that she'd just told him.

"Mate, you're being an idiot," Malfoy cut into the conversation and Hermione was surprised he'd been silent for so long, "You've just been told in no uncertain terms that the Weaselette is in love with you. What are you still doing sitting here while she's over there flirting with that muggle?"

"I'm not in love with her," Blaise replied tartly, "She can flirt with whoever the hell she likes."

"You're a liar!" Malfoy argued with him, beating Hermione to the punch, "If you didn't love her you wouldn't be sitting here arguing with Granger and pouting about this shite."

Blaise glared at both of them before a smirk curled across his face, "I don't like it when the two of you agree on things."

"It is strange," Hermione conceded, before turning to Malfoy, who had snuck his arm around the top of her shoulders and begun subtly pulling her into his side and adding, "Are you going to let go of me at all tonight?"

"Probably not," He admitted.

"I feel like the injection should be wearing off by now," Hermione said, "How could they have miscalculated your dosage this badly?"

"I'm not entirely certain it's just the dosage," Malfoy told her, glancing at her sideways for a long moment that made Hermione's inside wiggle uncomfortably.

"Meaning what?" Hermione asked him, lowering her voice as she noticed that Blaise had returned his attention to Ginny, who happened to be weaving her way through the crowd toward them.

"Meaning you smell _really _good," Malfoy murmured, taking advantage of her obvious need to discuss the situation privately by tugging her closer until he could mutter into her ear, giving her goose-pimples.

"I'm certain that's to do with the injections they gave us," Hermione replied, "It's not as though you're all of a sudden attracted to your of your own volition."

"Well aren't you just little Miss Self-Confidence?" Malfoy asked her, smirking now.

"So I've been thinking," Ginny began as she reach the table and began passing out glasses before pouring herself a glass of White Russian and downing it in one, "Why is it that all of a sudden thanks to these injections, Malfoy's exclusively attracted to you 'Mione? I mean, _I_ know you're beautiful, but if these injections only increase libido and fertility levels, why is he lusting after you like you bathed in a broth?"

Malfoy gave her a look that seemed to say '_see I'm not the only one thinking this'_ and Hermione kind of wanted to laugh.

"Maybe he's a little barmy," Hermione suggested, leaning away from Malfoy to pour herself a drink.

"Nice try, but no dice. You've been smelling better and better since we left the hospital," Malfoy told her, taking the glass out of her hand and drinking it before Hermione could protest that he didn't need anything else affecting his judgement.

"It is weird that he's all over you Granger," Zabini cut in, "I mean, you're pretty, but this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about. There's no love lost between you two and he hasn't been able to keep his hands off you."

Hermione bit her lip, glancing at Ginny innocently for a moment, not really wanting to explain the other key ingredient in the injections. Ginny seemed to misinterpret her look.

"It seems strange to me that the Ministry would order a marriage law and dictate the pairings only to send us all wild with lust. How can they guarantee we're going to lust after each other? What's to stop anyone from shagging around with spouses they'd prefer to be with?" Ginny said thoughtfully.

"I suspect that if anyone were to try they'd get sick in a hurry," Hermione told them, taking a sip of her drink and enjoying the burn of the alcohol in her stomach. It was a nice change to the tingling of werewolf DNA toying with her genetic make-up.

"But still, it seems strange that Malfoy would automatically and apparently unabashedly start lusting after you exclusively when the two of you clearly dislike each other," Ginny said and Hermione wanted to hex her for being an idiot. Hermione looked at the contents of her drink to avoid Ginny's probing gaze, feeling Malfoy fingers whispering against her collarbone beneath the neck of her jumper in the same spot he'd been nipping at and sniffing and licking since they injected him.

"What do you know Hermione?" Ginny asked, her voice accusatory.

"I know lots of things," Hermione replied, shrugging in a way that she hoped looked nonchalant, "Comes with the territory of being a know-it-all."

"You're dodging this topic, and that's not like you 'Mione" Ginny told her and Hermione wanted to throw her glass at the red-head, "Why aren't you offering ideas about the reason that Malfoy's all over you? For that matter, why are you accepting it so easily? It's not like you to allow so much touchy-feely nonsense, especially in public and especially from Malfoy."

Hermione glanced around guiltily and found all three of her companions staring at her expectantly.

"So I might've neglected to mention the fact that there's one extra ingredient in each person's injection," Hermione began, looking between the three of them.

"Which was?" Malfoy asked with just a hint of a growl threatening in his tone.

Hermione bit her lip and sighed, seeing no other way around this than to tell them.

"They took a blood sample from each of us, partially to do some testing and make sure we're healthy, but Healer Underwood told me they add a small fraction of our DNA to each other's injection to ensure we're only attracted to each other," Hermione explained.

Ginny and Blaise both looked a little grossed out by the idea of being injected with each other's blood, but Hermione didn't pay much attention to the look of horror they shared. She was too busy staring sideways at Malfoy. His fingers had stilled against her neck and he was staring at her with a little frown creasing his brow.

Hermione jumped when he suddenly leant forwards, tugging her sideways and nosing her hair aside as he buried his nose against her neck just below her ear. She wondered if the whole pub heard the sound of him taking a long deep breath in through the nose, breathing in her scent. Hermione fought against the quiver that overtook her body at the feel of him pressed so close against her and goose-pimples exploded on her skin when he slowly breathed warm breath back out against her sensitive flesh.

"This is why you smell so good," Malfoy told her, pulling back so that he could look directly into her face, "Because you're beginning to smell more lupine, like me."

Hermione nodded weakly, noticing that Blaise and Ginny were both looking at her with concern.

"You knew about this Hermione?" Ginny asked her quietly.

"Healer Underwood told me about it when I asked her what was in the injections and how they proposed to increase the sex-drive of the entire wizarding population while still ensuring to maintain these carefully constructed pairings they're so set on," Hermione explained, her voice low so as to avoid drawing the attention of any of the muggles in the surrounding pub, "They informed me they're doing so by adding the DNA of each couple to the injection mixture. I suspect they wanted me to keep it quiet, given that the Ministry is already interfering so much in our lives, they don't want to actually be seen to be dictating our emotions too."

Hermione glanced around at all of them, her gaze settling on Malfoy when she noticed that for the first time since they'd been given the news that they were to be married earlier that morning, he looked deadly serious in spite of the still lupine glow in his eyes.

"Are you aware of the effect my DNA is going to have on you?" He asked her, his voice low and serious. Hermione could tell that he was actually concerned by the impact that the werewolf genetic make-up was going to have on her and she felt a little bit of the resentment and dislike she harboured for Malfoy melt away.

"I'm aware of the repercussions this will have on me" Hermione replied.

"Are you aware of the effect it will have on me?" He asked, still just as serious.

Hermione slowly raised her eyebrows, wondering what he meant.

"I doubt my DNA is going to affect you all that much Malfoy. I promise you're not going to suddenly be considered a half-blood or anything else ridiculous" Hermione replied drolly.

Ginny snorted in spite of the serious situation when Malfoy's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What? What are you talking about Granger?" He asked, "That's not what I meant at all. I meant are you aware of what you being effected by my DNA and getting a little lupine is going to do to me?"

"Erm… nothing?" Hermione asked, "I know plenty of werewolves who have spouse's that they accidentally nip who are all just fine. It's not like you're the one who's going to start craving raw steak."

"You know plenty of werewolves in this situation that are solitary and therefore don't have to deal with the effects of the wolf being awake while around the person they've infected." Malfoy corrected her and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm not infected," She told him.

"Yes you are," he replied.

"Are you really trying to tell me that just because your wolf is always awake I'm going to turn into a werewolf every full moon just like you do?" Hermione asked him reasonably even though she could feel her heart beating a little faster with fear at the idea of becoming a werewolf.

"Don't be ridiculous," Malfoy told her, sounding more and more annoyed as his voice grew gravelly and snarly. Hermione glanced at Blaise and Ginny questioningly but both of them shrugged their shoulders at her, indicating that they weren't sure what Malfoy meant either.

"Ok then, well explain to me what me being effected by your werewolf genes is going to do to you?" Hermione said softly, holding Malfoy's gaze and imploring him with a look to tell her.

Malfoy clenched his jaw, causing the muscle there to tick rhythmically even as he looked up at the ceiling as though he was reaching for control again the way he had at the hospital. Hermione felt a flicker of nervousness when he slowly reached for her empty glass and poured her another drink.

"You remember earlier when I suggested that we get drunk?" He asked her as he handed Hermione the glass. Hermione nodded, an icy finger of dread running down her spine, "We're going to need stronger stuff than this, because your life pretty much just went to hell in a hand-basket."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Hermione groaned when her alarm began to shriek at her, telling her it was time to get up and she glanced at the evil device, wondering whether or not she'd be able to destroy with the power of will alone. Her head began to ache at the sound of the high pitched beeping and before things could get worse, Hermione reached over, clobbering the poor clock with a solid hit right to the desist button.

She was severely hungover and felt like she would very much like to bury herself under a mountain of blankets for the rest of the day. Foolishly, she'd let Malfoy talk her into getting particularly drunk the previous night at dinner with Ginny and Blaise and when she'd come home she'd remembered that she had promised she would have the Guest List for the weddings prepared for today's shopping trip. Instead of coming home and falling into her shower and then into bed, she'd had to sit up half the night as she slowly sobered up whilst weeding out all the doubled-up names on the extensive list of guests that would be invited to attend their group wedding.

Hermione didn't even want to think about the idea of getting out of bed and she'd purposely set her alarm for ten o'clock, even though they were all supposed to meet at Diagon Alley at eleven. She knew subconsciously that she needed to get up and take another shower before sweet-talking Ginny into making a stop at the café down the road from their flat so that she could grab herself a strawberry milkshake and a bacon sandwich – her usual hang-over cure – but the idea made her want to cry.

She really didn't want to spend the whole day dealing with several people that she wasn't fond of and the idea of doing so whilst trying on wedding dresses alongside a no doubt equally hung-over Ginny, as well as people like bloody Parkinson had Hermione considering how much it would hurt to scoop her eyeballs out with a spoon. She lay there in bed staring at the ceiling as she mused about the idea, weighing the options.

As much as she wanted to stay in bed, Hermione knew she needed to get up and prepare herself for a day that would no doubt be tedious and exhausting. She didn't at all fancy the idea of even speaking to anyone and the concept of having to see Malfoy again so soon made Hermione want to cry a little bit. She also felt like she wanted to vomit but she couldn't tell if that was due to the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed alongside Ginny, Zabini and Malfoy last night or if it had to do with the fact that she was fairly certain she'd been dreaming about Malfoy before her alarm had woken her.

Groaning some more as she rolled herself out of bed and waited for the world to stop spinning, Hermione didn't even bother with searching for her bath robe or finding pants. Instead she stumbled down the hall to the bathroom, her stomach rolling when she caught the scent of Ginny brewing coffee in the kitchen.

Just as she reached the doorway to the bathroom, Hermione walked headfirst into someone who did not feel like Ginny and she gasped in surprise before pausing to stare into the face of whoever it was that was invading her bathroom.

"Argh!" Hermione screamed when she looked up into the hung-over face of Draco Malfoy.

"Don't scream," Malfoy groaned, covering his ears and glaring at her. Hermione regretted it immediately when her head began to throb as though someone had taken to her with the Whomping Willow while she'd been asleep.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione snapped, scowling up at Malfoy before noticing that he was standing in the door way to her bathroom shirtless, "And why are you half naked?"

"Because you're wearing my shirt," Malfoy replied, pointing indicatively at her torso.

Hermione glanced down at herself and blanched when she realised it was true. She wore nothing but an oversized black button-up shirt and her boy-leg knickers, a fact Malfoy seemed to be taking advantage of as his eyes travelled over her bare legs.

"Why?" Hermione groaned, holding onto her head and glaring at him, trying to understand how this could possibly have happened. Surely she hadn't gotten so drunk that she'd slept with him and didn't remember it?

"What are you even doing here Malfoy?" Hermione asked him, trying to focus on not vomiting.

"I'm guessing you don't remember that after dinner - where we got particularly sloshed – the four of us proceeded to walk across London to the Leaky Cauldron, where we invested in a few bottles of firewhiskey and butterbeer before returning here?" Malfoy asked her.

"Oh Merlin," Hermione groaned, closing her eyes, realising she had no memory of any of that. "And what? You just stayed over?"

"My injection effects hadn't worn off yet," Malfoy replied.

"Oh gods…. Tell me we didn't have sex last night," Hermione begged, peering up into his face and noticing the fact that his blonde hair was incredibly sleep mussed.

"We didn't have sex. You went nuts when you spotted the pile of letters from everyone who sent their guest list to you while we were all out getting drunk and refused to leave the table until you finished it. I'm fairly certain I tried to pick you up and carry you to your bed when you fell out of your chair, but you went berserk."

"Then why am I wearing your shirt?" Hermione asked him before peeking down the front of her shirt and cringing as she added in a panic, "And nothing but knickers underneath?"

"I have no idea. I guess you picked it up off the floor when you came to bed," Malfoy told her.

"Why was your shirt on my floor and accessible to me when I went to bed?" Hermione demanded, feeling like there were six elephants tap dancing on her head.

"Weaselette made Blaise sleep on the couch," Malfoy shrugged, "And I had to sleep somewhere."

"You slept in my bed last night?" Hermione gasped, horror-stricken.

"You squeak in your sleep like a lost kitten," Malfoy informed her nonchalantly. Hermione felt her cheeks flame crimson.

"Do you have your wand on you?" Hermione asked him seriously.

"Of course…. Why?" He asked looking suspicious.

"Kill me please," Hermione instructed. Malfoy chuckled.

"If I try I'll end up in St. Mungo's on my deathbed…. What the hell happened to your hair?"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Hermione asked, befuddled as she reached up. She cringed the minute she touched the out-of-control mess on top of her head, "Oh no."

"Seriously, is it always like this naturally?" he asked her and Hermione flinched away from him when he reached up and buried his hand in the mass of frizz and curls.

"Don't," Hermione warned too late when the giant mess took on a mind of it's own, tangling around his fingers and wrist.

"Did your hair just grab me?" he asked, tugging gently as he tried to get free, looking mildly concerned.

"I told you not to touch it," Hermione said, reaching up and grabbing his wrist, snarling under her breath when the strands snagged and knotted around him while she tried to pry his hand free.

"Can this day get any worse?" Hermione grumbled as she finally managed to loosen her hair's grip on her fiancé.

"You're forgetting that we're supposed to go shopping for wedding garb," Malfoy told her, still looking amused and morbidly fascinated by her out of control hair and grumpy demeanour.

"Why are you being so creepy?" Hermione demanded, losing patience with him as her head throbbed again.

"Creepy?"

"Yes, Malfoy creepy. You're being creepy. We don't like each other remember. Just yesterday you were all for being awful to one another. Why are you smiling at me like that?"

"I tried to warn you about what would happen with my werewolf genetics racing around inside you," he told her, looking amused.

"What did it do? Make you fall in love with me overnight?" Hermione scowled.

"Don't be thick," Malfoy told her, "I still think you're insufferable."

"Then why are you in my house? Why did you sleep in my bed?" Hermione demanded.

"What's the matter wife? Are you forgetting that from now on we have to share a bed?" Malfoy smirked at her.

"Oh merlin I don't have the patience for this, or the time. Move, I need to shower," Hermione said, losing her temper at the reminder.

"I need my shirt back," Malfoy told her, crossing his arms over his chest and drawing Hermione's attention to the fact that he was still shirtless. Hermione tried not to let her eyes linger on his long, lean body, or on the fact that his ribs were visible – no doubt thanks to his curse. She also tried to ignore the fact that faint lines distinguished each muscle of his wiry frame and instead found her eyes drawn to the five long claw marks that slashed diagonally across his chest and over his stomach.

"I'm naked underneath," Hermione protested, her cheeks turning pink.

Malfoy shrugged, "I'm going to see it all sooner or later."

"I hate you," Hermione told him, scowling hatefully into his pointed face.

"I hate you too, now hand over the shirt."

"Not going to happen," Hermione told him, "Move, or I'll hex you."

"It's not like I didn't see you naked when you came to bed after showering last night anyway," Malfoy informed her and Hermione whimpered involuntarily.

"If you don't move I'm going to vomit on you," Hermione threatened, her stomach rolling with nausea and making her think it was actually a valid threat.

"Gross," Malfoy said, his face curling in disgust before he stepped out of the doorway and sauntered off down the hall. Hermione scowled when she realised he was heading for her bedroom.

Indecision gnawed at her as she glanced between the shower and his retreating form and Hermione hated the injections she was given when she felt her body tingle with desire at the way he practically swaggered, his trousers riding low on his hips and his back bared to her. She clenched her fist when she felt the urge again to run her fingers over the many scars criss-crossing his back, noticing that his entire back was in fact covered in claw marks. She could tell based on the positioning of some of them that at least a few of them were self-inflicted, while others could only possibly have been put there by another werewolf.

Pinching herself in an attempt to snap herself out of it, Hermione stomped into the bathroom and locked the door, wondering how much water she'd have to breathe in before she would be able to drown the images and tingling feelings away.

When she felt almost alive and back to normal, Hermione finally got out of the shower before cursing when she realised that she had left her bathrobe back in her bedroom and so would have to make the dash between the bathroom and her bedroom in nothing but a towel.

"Argh!" Hermione and Ginny simultaneously screamed when Hermione opened the door to find Ginny right outside and about to knock on the door.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"I was just about to check on you and make sure you hadn't fallen asleep sitting in the bottom of the shower under the spray again," Ginny explained, smiling at her friend.

"That was one time," Hermione protested, though she couldn't help but smile as she remembered the time she'd done that the morning after she a Ron had broken up.

"And until last night you hadn't been that drunk since that one time," Ginny reminded her.

"How did we get so drunk?" Hermione asked, lowering her voice to whisper to her best friend, "How did we all end up back here? Why did you let Malfoy sleep in my bed?"

"To be honest I didn't think you'd end up getting to bed. There were so many envelopes and you were still rather sloshed, I figured you'd either be up all night working on the guest list, or that'd you fall asleep there like you do so many other nights when you have a project that you're completely focused on," Ginny admitted honestly.

"So you let him sleep in my bed?" Hermione asked her, stricken.

"Well I wasn't about to let Zabini crawl back into my bed after what he said to me, and it's not like I could just stop Malfoy. Did you see his eyes? He was still all wolf-looking when I went to bed. In fact I'm surprised he left you alone to work on the list."

"He said he tried to carry me to bed when I fell out of my chair but that I went berserk and wouldn't stop until I finished the guest list," Hermione told her friend.

"Is that why I heard you scream earlier? I didn't know he was up too. Blaise is still out of it on the couch."

"I think the werewolf genetics helped him sober up faster, and his eyes were finally grey again instead of gold," Hermione replied, "He said he saw me naked and I woke up wearing only his shirt and my knickers."

"Oh my gosh, you slept with him already?" Ginny demanded, looking excited and appalled at the same time.

"No!" Hermione gasped, "At least, he said we didn't. I don't remember anything from last night."

"So where is he now?" Ginny asked, peering past Hermione into the bathroom as though expecting to see Malfoy in there in a towel behind her.

"I don't know? I'm hoping he left," Hermione answered truthfully.

"Well, I guess you got your first taste of what your married life is going to be like," Ginny said, "What with the whole having to share a bed rule."

"Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?" Hermione asked her drily.

"Better, I think. By the way, we need to be at Diagon Alley in fifteen minutes, so you need to hurry," Ginny reminded her and Hermione groaned.

"Today's going to be positively disgusting," Hermione told her friend even as she raced down the hall to her bedroom as she added, "Oh and you should wake Blaise."

Hermione snapped her bedroom door closed and dashed across the room to her wardrobe, hunting in her drawers for some clean knickers that she wouldn't be totally embarrassed to be seen in by everyone else since she would be in and out of her clothes all morning trying on dresses. When she managed to find a nice, respectable looking pair of beige boy-legs with lace trim, Hermione dropped her towel and slid the garment up her legs, cursing softly when she realised that she should've remembered to shave her legs in the shower. They were prickly.

Not knowing what kind of dress she would opt for, Hermione dug out her stick-on chicken fillets rather than a regular bra.

"What is that?" a gravelly voice asked her and Hermione screamed, spinning quickly and feeling her cheeks and temper flame when she spotted Malfoy reclining on her bed as though he belonged there. She kind of hated herself for the way her eyes trailed over him, making her want to walk over and touch him.

"Again with the screaming Granger?" he groaned, "I'm hungover and have werewolf hearing. Are you trying to make my ears bleed?"

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione demanded of him, "How could you just sit there while I dropped my towel? You pervert!"

"You knew I was in here," Malfoy replied, smirking devilishly, "I know you watched me walk all the way down the hall and back into your room. So I figured you were getting over being a prude when you got naked for me again."

"I'm going to kill you Draco Malfoy," Hermione threatened, wanting to snatch up her wand but incapable given that she was currently clutching her bare breasts to keep them from view.

"Now is that any way to talk to your husband?" Malfoy asked, smirking as he slowly sat up.

"You're not my husband!" Hermione snarled.

"Not yet. But we are going to be fitted for wedding garb today, so you might as well get used to calling me your husband, wifey."

"If you call me that one more time I'm going to smother you with a pillow," Hermione snapped, beginning to feel self-conscious when she noticed that his gaze was travelling over her bared body hungrily, his eyes flickering between Malfoy grey and lupine gold even as he got to his feet and began to stalk towards her across her small bedroom like the wolf he was. She felt her skin prickle uncomfortably at the thought of being his prey.

"Don't you need to be getting dressed for today?" he asked, his voice husky. Hermione blushed when her gaze skidded down his still-bare torso and caught sight of the bulge in the front of his dark trousers.

"Don't you dare come any closer Malfoy, just take your shirt and get out of here," Hermione told him.

"We both know that's not going to happen," Malfoy said, clucking his tongue at her for her foolish suggestion.

"Yes it is, get the hell out! I don't have to deal with you being anywhere near me until next Friday and I mean to take full advantage of that fact," Hermione snapped, taking as many steps back as she could before her back collided with her bedroom wall.

"You didn't seem to mind last night," Malfoy argued with her softly, coming closer and closer until he stood less than a meter from her, looking down at her wearing that smug smile and ever-arrogant expression she so remembered from their years at Hogwarts.

"Yes I did, but every time I tried to escape you, you snarled like a beast. I wasn't about to risk having my arms torn off," Hermione needled him, knowing it was a cheap shot to bring up his condition but not caring when he was beginning to fluster her by standing so close while she wore so little.

"Why are you so nervous around me Granger?" he asked wickedly, smirking now.

"I'm not nervous," Hermione protested, "I'm concerned that you don't seem to understand the word 'no'."

Hermione quivered with nervousness and uncertainty when he slid his feet across her carpet, moving even closer until he was well within her personal space and Hermione had to tip her head back to hold his stare.

"I'm going to kiss you," He told her, his voice husky and his flickering eyes settling on lupine gold again.

"Not until our wedding day you're not," Hermione corrected him.

"You're delusional if you believe that," he told her and Hermione felt her heart begin to race when his fingers brushed against her chin and along her jaw.

"I'm not delusional Malfoy. I'm rational. Which you clearly aren't. I'm not kissing you and I need to get dressed so please either turn your back or leave my bedroom," Hermione told him sternly, even though the caress of his cool fingers against her shower-flushed skin made her knees tremble just the tiniest bit.

"Do you know what's going to happen to both of us if you keep resisting, Granger?" Malfoy asked her quietly, his eyes fixed on her lips but his tone serious.

"You're going to go slowly insane because the Ministry is going to keep drugging you," Hermione replied.

"And they're going to keep drugging you, making you smell more and more like a wolf and making you want me, even if you don't want to want me," Malfoy told her, "You already smell too good for your own safety."

"Meaning what?" Hermione asked him.

"Meaning the wolf is always awake Granger, and the wolf is a predator. The more you resist the more the wolf views you as prey. If you keep trying to resist me, and actually manage it until next Friday, the wolf is going to go rabid and I don't have a strong enough leash to chain him," Malfoy warned her seriously.

"For all I care, you can leash the beast until you howl for me. I'm not kissing you and you're not going to touch me until our wedding night. Is that clear?" Hermione replied coldly, staring into his face seriously.

A low snarl rumbled inside his chest but Hermione held her ground.

"You're making a mistake," Malfoy whispered, his eyes flickering back to grey as he blinked rapidly, his fist clenching at his side while he dropped his other hand away from her.

"The mistake would be letting you snog me when we have to be at Diagon Alley in less than ten minutes," Hermione replied, "Now take your shirt and get out. I need to get dressed."

Hermione stared up at him for another long minute and she noticed the way his body tensed and quivered as though fighting some internal battle with the animal within to do what she said.

"You're going to have to help me," he murmured finally, his whole body shuddering with fine tremors.

"How?" Hermione asked him seriously, realising he was having real trouble fighting his animalistic nature to do what she wanted. When his eyes flickered gold to grey several times in quick succession before landing on the curve of her neck, the spot he'd been so fond of sniffing, licking and nipping last night, Hermione realised there was only one way she was going to get him out of her room.

Spinning on her toes, Hermione turned her back to him, stepping a little closer to the wall.

"What are you…?" Malfoy trailed off with a groan when Hermione reached up and swept her hair away from the spot he'd been eyeing, glancing over her shoulder at him and tilting her head to the side a little, offering him the patch of skin. She jumped when she felt one of his hands curl over her hips and around, his palm flattening against her stomach. Her heart pounded in her ears, sounding far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

"This isn't helping," He groaned against her shoulder and Hermione quivered in his hold as his nose skimmed across her skin down the side of her neck and along the top of her shoulder.

"Then what will?" Hermione said, hating herself when she realised she sounded breathless. Her nipples tightened into taut peaks at the feel of his cool breath against her suddenly flushed skin.

"Don't let them give you any more injections laced with werewolf DNA," Malfoy murmured against her skin, making Hermione quiver when she felt the soft brush of his lips against her sensitive skin.

"You know they're going to," Hermione whispered, her body trembling when she felt the way he fitted his teeth over the spot he was so taken with, biting down gently. She hissed when his free hands came up to press her jaw, turning her face until she met his gaze over her shoulder.

"Don't let them Granger," he told her, his voice hoarse with desire like she'd never heard anyone else's. At least not because of her, "Anymore lupine and you're mine."

With that said he bit down on the top of her shoulder again, not hard enough to break the skin or leave a mark, but just hard enough to warn her that her life was going to get a lot more complicated. She didn't have a choice about what the Ministry dictated should be put in her injection, nor about the fact that she'd have to marry the werewolf currently stalking out of her bedroom. She didn't have a choice about the fact that she was going to end up more lupine and was going to end up married to Draco Malfoy, her childhood enemy and the man currently making her feel weak in the knees with how much effort it took to stay stern and not let him have his way with her after one day.

When she heard her door click closed, Hermione sagged with relief, pressing her forehead against the wall and trying to get her racing heart back under control. She had no idea how much of an effect the injections were having on her, all she knew was that her body craved his touch the way she hadn't even craved anything else in her life. Taking several long deep breaths in, Hermione straightened and rushed to don her stick-on-chicken-fillets before throwing on a loose fitting, pale pink beach dress that hung loose and helped to conceal her figure. It was also easy to slip on and off, which would be convenient while she tried on wedding dresses.

She frowned when she glanced at herself in the mirror and noticed she had a pair of hand shaped bruises circling both biceps dark enough that she could see the outline where each one of his fingers had squeezed her so tightly yesterday. They weren't going to be easy to hide and Hermione shuddered to think about how impossible Harry and Ron were going to be if they caught sight of the marks.

Slipping a pair of sandals onto her feet and grabbing her cream-coloured cardigan, Hermione hurried out her door, calling out to Ginny that they were going to be late but she wasn't going anywhere without her hangover cure strawberry milkshake and bacon sandwich.

"You can't be serious 'Mione?" Ginny called as Hermione raced into their living room, "Oh, you look nice."

"Thanks, you too. And I am serious. I'm starving and if I don't get my milkshake I'm likely to murder Parkinson or Fleur today," Hermione informed her, choosing for the time being to ignore both Zabini and Malfoy who both still looked hungover. Blaise looked like hell. Malfoy didn't look as bad, but it was clear to her that if anyone looked at the four of them it would be painfully obvious that they'd all been drinking last night.

"I don't know how you can drink a milkshake when you're hung over. The last thing I ever want is something milky," Ginny said, shaking her head and heading for the door.

"It's a foible. I've tried other things, but you know coffee makes me gag and Orange juice stings my throat when I've been drinking," Hermione told her, stopping at the table on the way out the door to grab the guest list she'd thrown together last night.

"Did you get that finished?" Ginny asked her, waving her wand to lock the door behind Malfoy and Zabini as they followed in silence.

"Eventually," Hermione said, "Though I have no idea what time I got to bed."

"After four," Malfoy replied, around a yawn from behind her, "You woke me up when you came in, grumbling because you kicked your toe in the dark and then you couldn't get your alarm clock to work properly."

"It's creepy that you know that," Ginny informed him, saving Hermione the trouble.

"What's creepy is that you smell like Zabini even though you made him sleep on the couch," Malfoy retorted as Hermione led the way down the street towards her favourite café.

"Hi Hermione!" the waitress greeted her, bouncing merrily, "Hey Ginny!"

"Hi Penny," Hermione smiled. Penny was a muggle who was working as a waitress whilst paying her way through university.

"The usual?" She asked, smiling, "You look like you started the weekend early."

"The usual," Hermione confirmed, "With extra ice-cream in my milkshake please."

"Big night then?" Penny laughed.

"You have no idea," Hermione replied darkly.

"Alright, one milkshake, extra ice-cream and one bacon sandwich coming up."

"Make it four," Malfoy interrupted.

"Pardon?" Penny asked, raising her eyebrows at Malfoy before glancing at Hermione curiously.

"Make it four bacon sandwiches" he repeated, looking like he was half-starved.

"O-kay…. Erm, Ginny, anything for you?"

"A sausage and egg muffin," Ginny nodded, "With extra hollandaise."

"Anything else?" Penny asked, glancing at Blaise who looked like he was going to vomit.

"Mint tea for me," he said to Penny and Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Alright, we'll get right on it if you'd all like to just take a seat," Penny said.

"Oh, it's to go," Ginny said, "And could you ask Brian to rush our order? We've got an eleven o'clock appointment."

"Not a problem," Penny smiled and Hermione could tell from the way her eyes danced between the four of them that she was dying of curiosity to see Ginny and Hermione with a pair of boys in tow."

"How often do you women eat here that you know the names of all the staff?" Blaise asked when Penny was gone.

"At least once a week," Hermione replied "They do good food."

"How snappy do you think the rush order will be?" Malfoy asked, "I'm starving."

"You're really going to eat three bacon sandwiches for breakfast?" Hermione asked him doubtfully.

"Breakfast? This is just a snack. I'll get some real breakfast in Diagon Alley," Malfoy waved his hands dismissively.

"Just how much do you eat?" Ginny asked and Hermione sniggered at the very idea given that all of her brothers were big eaters and so it took a lot to surprise her when it came to meal sizes.

"Probably about four times the amount a normal person does," Malfoy replied, "The wolf is easier to control if he's well fed."

"And you used to complain about feeding Ron," Ginny laughed, nudging Hermione playfully.

"I wonder if he's tried to flee the country yet?" Hermione mused as she thought about Ron and how much he was dreading marrying Pansy

"I'm sure Dad and the others will have stopped him if he did," Ginny said, though she didn't look very confident.

"You think? Your Dad and brothers might've tried to help him. It is Parkinson after all, and I don't' see your parents being thrilled at the prospect of having her for their new daughter-in-law," Hermione told her.

"Why must you say these things and remind me that she's going to be my sister-in-law?" Ginny asked, looking horrified, "You know I was still holding out hope that you'd be my sister-in-law one day."

Hermione laughed.

"You did remember to bring your dress to this meeting, right?" she asked her best friend.

"Mum's dropping it off," Ginny replied, "I'm sure it's a plot to include herself in the planning. You know how barmy she gets about wedding plans."

"You're going to have to run a lot of interference today," Hermione told her seriously, "I shudder to think what would happen if she tried to suggest a dress to Parkinson."

Ginny nodded, "I'll do what I can to keep her off your back until your hangover wears off" Ginny promised.

"This is why I love you," Hermione smiled at her friend "I didn't even have to suggest that she was going to drive me crazy with her traditionalist ideas and you knew what I was getting at."

"How long have you two lived together?" Malfoy asked, glancing between them and looking intrigued by their easy friendship.

"It would've been three years at the end of April," Hermione told him, feeling a little sad at the reminder that come next week she wouldn't wake up to the sound of Ginny singing in the shower every morning when she got home from her early-morning Quidditch practice.

"Guess you'll be missing that anniversary," Blaise said through his hands having buried his face in them to avoid the sun glaring off the table beside theirs.

"Do you have to be morbid?" Ginny asked him, looking at Hermione sadly.

"Just stating fact," Blaise replied, "You should start packing your things and moving them to my place."

"Who said I was moving to your place?" Ginny demanded, "Why can't you move to my place?"

"Have you seen my place?" Blaise asked her seriously, lifting his face out of his hands and quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Well… no…" Ginny said.

"Then don't even bother arguing. You'll move into my place."

"You can't tell me what to do Zabini," Ginny snapped.

"Sure I can. You like it," Blaise grinned wickedly, "And when you see my place it's going to be a battle trying to keep you out, so stop arguing with me."

"I hate you," Ginny told him nastily and Hermione giggled when Blaise rolled his eyes before groaning, clearly regretting the action.

"Are you sweet talking me, Babe?" Blaise asked her and Hermione laughed and Ginny's affronted expression at being called 'babe'.

"Don't call me that," Ginny said.

"You used to like it," Blaise told her and Hermione caught Ginny's confused expression at his change in attitude from that of the scowling, hurt man he'd been last night before Hermione had lectured him about being a git.

"I used to like a lot of things that I hate now," Ginny snapped at him and Hermione caught the disbelieving smirk Blaise threw at his fiancé.

"Is this state of denial going to last long?" He asked Ginny whose ears turned red with annoyance.

"Ok, here's your order," Penny interrupted before Ginny could retort, "One milkshake, one mint tea, four bacon sandwiches and a sausage and egg muffin."

"Thanks Penny," Hermine said, "You're a life saver."

"Just call me Supergirl," Penny smiled brightly.

"We may be back tomorrow," Ginny warned her and Penny laughed.

"Something awful happen that I don't know about?"

"Oh yeah," Ginny replied cryptically and shot a dark glance at Blaise, "We'll see you."

Hermione led the way out of the shop, noticing that Malfoy had eaten his first sandwich by the time they walked out the door.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

By the time they reached Diagon Alley, Hermione was openly staring at Malfoy. The flat she shared with Ginny was only a five minute walk from the Leaky Cauldron and Malfoy had polished off all three sandwiches before they reached the pub. He was currently eyeing her half-eaten sandwich like he might take it out of her hands if she took much longer with it.

"You're here!" Harry called when he spotted them as they strolled down Diagon Alley.

Hermione noticed the way he began to hurry forward in greeting before spotting Malfoy and Zabini a pace or two behind her and Ginny. She realised when Harry faltered just how strange it must look to see the four of them arriving together.

"Morning Harry," Hermione greeted him, stepping forwards and brushing her cheek to his. Ron, George, Angelina, Fleur, Luna and Mrs Weasley were behind him and Hermione greeted them all the same way. Ginny did the same while Ron, George and Harry eyeballed Malfoy and Zabini.

"What are you doing arriving with them?" Ron asked her quietly, nodding towards Malfoy and Zabini as they both strolled into a café, Draco clearly searching for more food and Blaise uncomfortable left alone with the Weasley's.

"We had to get our injections last night," Hermione told him.

"Yeah, so did we. You should've seen the way Parkinson glared at me. I think she wants to kill me," Ron complained, "But that doesn't explain why they're still with you this morning."

"Ginny and Zabini had their appointment at the same time as Malfoy and I….. because he's a werewolf, they increased the dosage they gave to Malfoy, thinking they'd need to combat his immune system. It sort of backfired and he lost control for a bit. Ginny and Blaise came to dinner with me and Malfoy while we waited for it to wear off."

"You went on a double date?" Angelina asked, overhearing them and interrupting.

"Of sorts. Mostly it involved a lot of arguing and way too much alcohol. By the time the effects on Malfoy wore off we were all drunk at our flat," Hermione replied.

"No wonder you and Ginny look like hell," George said, grinning at her.

"And what? You let them stay over?" Ron demanded looking horrified.

"Oh don't look so offended Ron," Ginny chided him, "This time next week we'll be married to them."

"You say that like it's not something to be concerned over," Ron retorted, "You're going to be tied to those gits for the rest of your lives and you're just going to get a head start on sleeping with them?"

"It's not like we're going to be able to get around sleeping with them," Ginny replied and Hermione could tell that she was enjoying the way Ron's ears and neck had begun to turn red with outrage over the idea of his baby sister and his ex-girlfriend sleeping with people he didn't like.

"Tell me you didn't shag Malfoy last night," Harry said to Hermione seriously, looking disgusted.

"I don't really remember much of last night, Harry," Hermione replied, winking inconspicuously at Ginny who was trying to control her giggling.

"I'm going to be sick," Ron announced, shooting her a scathing glare as though she had betrayed him.

"Thinking about the fact that you're going to have to shag Pansy again Weaselbee?" Malfoy asked from behind him, making Ron jump in surprise.

Hermione tried not to laugh when Ron eyed Malfoy with disgust, his ears turning red while Malfoy nonchalantly munched on some kind of breakfast burger.

"He has a point Ron, you're going to have to get used to the idea, after all, you are going to have to shag that ninny," Ginny cut in seriously and looking bemused when Ron shot her a look of utter betrayal to hear her siding with Malfoy.

"Don't talk to me, Slytherin shagging little tramp," Ron snapped, looking embarrassed, disgusted and horrified all at once.

"That's no way to talk to my wife, Weasley," Blaise sad, throwing his arm causally around Ginny's shoulders.

"Get your hands off my sister!" Ron growled at him.

He was clearly too angry to notice the shocked expression on Ginny's face to feel Blaise hugging her so publicly, and so easily. She looked quizzically at Hermione, and Hermione could see that amid the confusion she was pleased by the feel of his arm around her shoulders.

"Oh Ronald, stop getting so worked up," Mrs Weasley scolded though she was eyeing her daughter with a look of confusion on her face.

"Did you really shag him?" Harry asked Hermione, pulling her aside and muttering into her ear. Hermione opened her mouth to answer him but Malfoy beat her to it.

"She did wake up in my shirt Potter," he said. Harry stared at him clearly wondering how Malfoy had heard him whisper to Hermione when he was standing across the crowded alley still chewing his burger. Malfoy smirked, tapping his ear indicatively, "Werewolf hearing."

"Really Hermione?" Harry asked, clearly deciding he didn't trust Malfoy.

"No I didn't bloody shag him. How low an opinion do you have of me?" Hermione said, making sure to look right at Malfoy as she spoke. He curled his lip at her but Hermione could see he'd been having too much fun tormenting Harry and Ron to care what she said about him.

"Then why is he lying about you sleeping in his shirt?" Harry asked and Hermione sighed.

"He's not," Hermione replied.

"What?" Harry said, clearly confused now.

"I did wake up in his shirt," Hermione clarified, "And not much else."

"You know what?" Harry said, his cheeks turning pink at the idea of discussing the entire situation, "Just don't tell me, ok? I'm going to go and talk to Ron before he throttles Zabini."

He walked away, shooting a befuddled glance at her over his shoulder.

"I hate you," Hermione said when she felt someone move over to stand beside her, knowing without looking that it was Malfoy.

"I'm still hungry," Malfoy said completely unconcerned by her announcement and clearly focusing entirely on his growling stomach even though he was pulling a second wrapped breakfast burger out of the pocket of his overcoat.

"Hermione, dear?" Mrs Weasley said, sidling over, "Have you thought at all about the type of dress you want?"

"Mum," Ginny intervened before Hermione could even open her mouth, "Can we save the dress talk until everyone gets here? It's nauseating enough and Hermione and I had a lot to drink last night. We don't want to go splattering anyone's shoes…."

"Oh Ginevra, what have I told you about drinking? Do you want to get a reputation as being a sloppy lush?" Molly scolded her daughter immediately and Hermione sighed in relief when the woman moved away from her again, forgetting about Hermione's dress issues for the moment while she lectured her daughter.

Hermione eyed Malfoy out the corner of her eye, noticing that his burger smelled fantastic even though she already eaten her bacon sandwich and finished her milkshake. He caught her looking and smirked around his mouthful.

"You want some?" he asked her, and Hermione hated him for saying it so loudly, drawing everyone's attention. He even held it out to her, offering her a bite as though they were already so comfortable with each other that as a werewolf (and therefore notoriously snarly about the idea of sharing food) he was happy to share his food with her.

"No, thank you," Hermione replied, looking away even though she kind of did want a bite despite the fact that steak, sausage and bacon all at once for breakfast after she'd already had her sandwich ought to turn her stomach rather than making it growl. A sound he clearly heard when he grinned knowingly.

"Liar," he breathed and Hermione could feel the hairs on her arms rising.

"Draco! There you are! Where in Merlin's name have you been all night?" Narcissa Malfoy's voice cut through the crowd and Hermione began trying to shrink away before the woman could catch sight of her.

"Granger's," Malfoy replied to his mother, throwing an arm around her shoulders and making Hermione shudder as Mrs Malfoy's eyes glared daggers at her, "Do you have my…..?"

He trailed off as his mother handed him a goblet of something that was smoking slightly. He accepted it eagerly even though the minute he downed it he scowled and shuddered as though it was bitter. Hermione started when she realised she'd just watched him drink his daily dose of Wolfsbane Potion the way she drank her morning cup of tea, minus the shuddering of course since tea was delicious and she'd heard all about how the potion was not.

"When you didn't come home last night I thought you'd tried fleeing the country," Narcissa scolded her son, not deigning to speak to Hermione.

"Nope. Got drunk with Blaise, Weasley and Granger," Malfoy told her nonchalantly as he vanished his now empty goblet and went back to munching on his food and looking entirely blasé.

"Why on earth would you do a thing like that?" his mother asked him, looking disgusted.

He gave no verbal reply, but Hermione felt him move slightly and Hermione squeaked when she suddenly found herself tugged around in front of him between him and his mother.

"What do you think you're doing Draco?" His mother asked, still ignoring Hermione.

"She's why I would do that," Malfoy replied.

"What?" Hermione gasped in outrage, "You can't blame me for this! It's not like I forced you to get so drunk that you couldn't apparate!"

Before anyone else could say anything, the rest of their wedding-group arrived.

"Is everyone here?" Tracy Davis called out, smiling brightly even as she walked over, brushing her cheek to Harry's in greeting. Harry looked a little surprised and his cheeks turned pink as she nestled herself in next to him, squeezing between him and Ron before she continued to talk. "We really need to get a wriggle on. There are so many outfits we need to organise today. Oh, Hermione there you are. Did you get the Guest list finished?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, stepping out from between the pair of Malfoys hurriedly, pouncing on the chance to escape them, "It's ready, so if we take it to the printers we can begin sending out invitations as soon as we decide on an invitation style."

"Fantastic!" Tracy said, seeming entirely too upbeat and perky for Hermione's hungover mind, "Well then, let's go to the printer's first, pick a style and get them sent out. We only have eight days, after all and people are going to need a little bit of notice."

"There was a story about out group wedding in the Prophet this morning announcing the date. Daddy ran it in the Quibbler too," Luna piped up, "So they have notice, now they're all on tenterhooks waiting to find out if they've been invited to what has already been declared the biggest occasion of the year. Personally I think the Crumple Horned Snorkack Festival is bigger…."

"Excellent. The sooner we get them owled out the better," Tracy smiled happily, choosing to ignore the strange and bewildered looks many people shot Luna, "Shall we begin?"


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Two in one go because I've been neglecting you. xx-Kitten**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Hermione glared at her reflection in the mirror of her changing cubicle wondering if she was ever going to find a dress that actually suited her. This was the twelfth she had tried on and she was about ready to scream in frustration. There was something about each one that just didn't suit her.

The first had had made her look washed out and pasty, the second had made her look fat. The fifth had puffed out funny at her waist, the ninth had awkward shoulder straps that had kept falling down and making her itch. The current atrocity had far too much lace and was too loose in the chest, sagging around her bust terribly. Things hadn't been helped when Ginny, Mrs Weasley and the others had all seen the hand-shaped bruises on her forearms and made a big deal about them. Her mood was less than perky and Hermione was about ready to say to hell with finding a wedding dress, she was going to the bloody ceremony in her pyjamas.

Sighing, Hermione stripped it off and tossed the dress over the top if the change-room curtain, knowing Ginny would try to find her another one.

"Hey!" Hermione squeaked when someone barged into the change room with her uninvited, thinking it must be Malfoy since no one else would be rude enough.

"What have you done to my son?" Narcissa Malfoy demanded by way of greeting and Hermione gaped at her lack of manners.

"Erm… tricked him, taunted him, annoyed him, punched him once…" Hermione offered, "Take your pick, but do it from outside my change-room. I'm half-naked here."

"I can see that," Narcissa replied coldly, her sharp gaze sweeping over Hermione scathingly, lingering a moment too long on the scar carved into her forearm by Bellatrix before quirking into a cruel knowing smile when she saw the bruises on Hermione's biceps.

"I'm glad you have eyes, now get out of my cubicle," Hermione snapped, losing patience with the woman.

"Try this on," Narcissa commanded, thrusting a gown at her. Hermione raised her eyebrows before looking at the price tag.

"I'm not paying this much for a wedding dress," Hermione protested, trying to give it back.

"You're not paying for it at all, the Ministry is. Put it on. I won't have my future daughter-in-law looking like a cheap tart in second-rate clothing on her wedding day. The picture of you and my Draco will hang in the Manor for the rest of time, after all," Narcissa dismissed Hermione's concerns.

"What makes you think I would wear this?" Hermione asked, holding the gown up in front of herself and eyeing the neckline and the straps and ridiculously puffy skirt with distaste.

"Put it on, you foolish girl. Those rags you've been trying don't suit your body type at all. Now, tell me what you've done to Draco that kept him out with you all night when you are supposed to be enemies," Narcissa snapped and Hermione glared at the woman defiantly.

"I didn't do anything to him. As you are no doubt aware we were both given our first fertility treatment injections yesterday," Hermione explained.

"You think yourself pretty enough to have caught his attention and rendered him attracted to you after one dosage?" Narcissa scoffed.

"He did this," Hermione offered, smiling coldly and pointing to a small purple love bite on the side of her neck that she'd found on closer inspection of herself when she'd been trying on disaster… er… dress, number six.

"No doubt a result of you throwing yourself at him," Narcissa sniffed distastefully.

"Are you really so conceited and impossibly thick that you believe Draco or I are even passingly attracted to each other without the aid of chemical stimulants?" Hermione demanded of the woman as she stepped into the gown, fighting a sea of tulle to try and locate the zipper.

"You haven't the most favourable history," Narcissa allowed, "However I believed Draco had more control that this."

"I'm sure he would have," Hermione gave her a sickly sweet smile and held still when Narcissa lost patience with her and zipped the gown for her, "If they hadn't been using our DNA to ensure we would all only be attracted to our Ministry dictated spouse. Due to the fact that they added some of his DNA to my injection, he had a little trouble leashing the wolf. The fact that they overcompensated the dosage they gave him expecting his immune system to fight it off rendered him practically incapable of keeping his hands off me for longer than a minute until the early hours of this morning."

"You've ingested werewolf DNA?" Narcissa gasped in surprise.

"I have, and they intend to keep giving me more every second day until next Friday, and then once per week thereafter, including during the time when we're on our forced honeymoon."

"Are you aware of the effects that's going to have on you?" Narcissa asked her, her pinched expression softening just a fraction to learn that Hermione was going to be a little lupine from now on.

"I'm aware of what it will do to me. Draco was unclear about the effect it will have on him due to the fact that his wolf is always awake," Hermione said, hoping the woman might explain.

"I'm sure you'll learn soon enough what it will mean for you," Narcissa said evasively.

"If you're dancing around the topic that he's going to bite me, you're wasting your time," Hermione warned. Narcissa smiled cruelly.

"He's going to do more than bite you," she replied, "However, that's not important right now. What is important is that this dress suits your figure, meaning you can stop searching and we can all go home that much sooner."

"Why did you help me find a dress?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Is it wrong of me to assist my soon-to-be daughter-in-law?" Narcissa asked innocently.

"Since I don't trust you one iota, I'd say that I'm highly suspicious of anything you do that isn't rude or cruel regarding me and the fact that I have the unfortunate Ministry order to be married into your family," Hermione retorted.

Narcissa stared at her in the mirror for a long moment.

"I am not as terrible as you believe Miss Granger," Narcissa told her sternly, "I don't much like some of your ideals, in particular your highly unconventional views regarding House-Elves; however, I am more than capable of recognising that you are a highly intelligent and mildly pretty young woman. I am also predisposed to you, given that you are one of the very few witches in existence who is able to stand in the presence of my husband and son without eyeing them cautiously due to their shared condition."

"None of those statements lends any form of reasoning to why you would seek to assist me," Hermione pointed out.

"You are not the first young woman to have become unwillingly engaged in an arranged marriage into the Malfoy family, Miss Granger. I myself had an arranged marriage with Lucius, one I was not overly fond of when my mother told me of my fate at sixteen. While I find it unfathomable that anyone could possibly dislike my Draco, I am aware of the history between the two of you that is unfavourable. As displeased as I am by this marriage law, I would like to see my son happy and since neither of you have a choice but to be married, I would like for your marriage to Draco to be a civil one. I am assisting you because it is important that you look lovely in your wedding photos and that you uphold the standard of dress expected of those within the Malfoy family. It is also important that you wear something like this, that is comfortable, yet exquisite given that you will have to spend many long hours wearing it while on the arm of a werewolf who has been pumped full of aphrodisiacs."

"Would it not make more sense for me to wear something less expensive, give the likelihood that he's going to tear me out of it?" Hermione asked.

Narcissa stared at her for a moment. "You are truly unafraid of that prospect," she commented, sounding intrigued.

"On the contrary, I am entirely terrified of that prospect but not because of Draco's condition," Hermione replied.

"From what I understand you have nothing to fear, did he not sleep in your bed while out of his mind on that injection last night?" Narcissa asked her, "Has he not already seen you naked?"

"He has," Hermione blushed, "Because he's sly and sneaky and didn't tell me he was in the room and awake after I showered this morning."

"There is also the fact that come next Friday he'll be pumped full of hormones. I doubt he'll pause long enough to notice what you look like naked, and if he does, you do not have that much to fear," she said and Hermione reeled at the round-about compliment.

"You have actually met your son, haven't you?" Hermione asked incredulously, "You are aware of the fact that he adores making people feel uncomfortable and inferior and worthless?"

"He does have a certain mean streak," Narcissa agreed with her, "One he learned from myself and Lucius. If you wish to thrive within your upcoming marriage I would recommend that you develop a thick skin and a high tolerance for possessiveness."

"I already have both," Hermione replied, straightening her shoulders.

"Good, then it seems we have arrived at the reason for my seeking you out privately like this," Narcissa said, her features pinching again, "The most important thing to me is my son's safety and happiness Miss Granger. If you threaten either of them I will do whatever is necessary to ensure his continued happiness and safety."

"Since I can't do anything to him that won't result in me landing on my death bed, I think it's safe to say his safety is guaranteed," Hermione told her seriously.

"But his happiness is not," Narcissa said sharply, "I do not ask that you fake enthusiasm or love or anything else for my son, but I do ask that you practice cordiality and patience and acceptance of the side-effects of his curse. If you do anything to upset his happiness, I can assure you that you will regret it for the rest of your life."

"I would recommend that you deliver the same threat to your son, Narcissa. I am capable of being mature and reasonable about this marriage but if he pushes me too far, as he suggested he would like too yesterday upon hearing the news, then I will jeopardise his happiness until he too sees reason and acts maturely."

"Very well," Narcissa said, "Take off that dress and garb yourself appropriately. I will have it correctly packaged and store it at the Manor until your wedding day."

Hermione didn't bother arguing with the woman or insisting she leave the room while she stripped out of the gown again.

"I will also organise a post ceremony outfit for you to change into before your honeymoon. This is, after all too nice and too expensive a dress to have it ruined by animalistic lust. I would suggest while you wait that you speak to Madame Atwell, who is here overseeing things and discuss with her the location of your honeymoon so you can pack and prepare for that appropriately," Narcissa informed her.

"Those are both excellent ideas," Hermione replied, slipping her beach dress over her slim body before donning her cardigan while Narcissa turned and began searching for the join in the curtains.

"One more thing Hermione," she said, turning back to look at Hermione who's eyes widened in surprise to hear the woman calling her by her first name, "You and I are both going to be living in the same house alongside a pair of werewolves, whilst effected by the bite and the DNA of being associated with werewolves. There is also a very real chance that you and I will have overlapping pregnancies due to these ridiculous new laws. It's not going to be an easy life for you, moving in with the three of us, especially given your past experiences at the Manor…. I want you to be able to share with me and confide in me regarding the developments in your relationship with Draco and the pregnancies you will endure in the coming years."

Hermione's mouth flopped open and closed like a fish, she was so shocked. Narcissa gave her a small, indulgent smile.

"I know you are surprised to hear me say such a thing, but I do want the best for Draco, which will be more easily achieved if you feel safe and comfortable with myself and Lucius as well as with Draco. Besides, if we're pregnant at the same time, there is a high likelihood that you and I will scream at each other and cry on each other and all manner of other unrefined actions that you will not expect from me. I'm not suggesting that we become best friends, but I would like it if we could be courteous and comfortable with one another. It is not after all, an easy thing to live with two werewolves."

With that said, she slipped out through the curtain, leaving Hermione speechless.

When Hermione followed Narcissa out of the cubicle a few moments later, she was met by a concerned looking Ginny.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, immediately moving over to Hermione to speak to her in a low voice, "I tried to stop her going in there but she's stronger than she looks."

"Probably the werewolf DNA," Hermione told her, "And yes, I'm fine."

"What did she want with you?" Ginny asked, frowning slightly.

"To offer her fashion advice regarding a dress for me," Hermione replied, "And to proffer the proverbial olive branch I think, though it was partially veiled by a threat."

"She threatened you?" Ginny demanded, "That hag!"

"She only threatened me suggesting that if I were to jeopardise Malfoy's happiness by being cruel or some kind of shrew about his condition, I would regret it because she wanted him to be happy," Hermione argued, "She even said she wanted us to be able to discuss things openly….."

"You do realise you're talking about Narcissa Malfoy, right?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione as though suddenly doubting her sanity.

"I'm aware of that, yes. I don't know what's going on, but that's what happened. Come on, we need to find Madame Atwell and ask her about the options regarding Honeymoon locations."


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: Look! A third chapter in one day because the past two have been short and I forgot to post for a few days in a row. See how good I am to you? x-Kitten**

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when she made to turn around and collided directly with Malfoy.

"What is this? You're sneaking up on me now?" Hermione groused at him, staring up at his face and trying to ignore the fact that she could feel the eyes of most people in the shop fixed on them. The entire wedding party had squeezed into a high class wedding robes store called _Madame Jiselle's Wedding and Formal Wear _and in the spirit of making sure the men didn't see the ladies in their chosen dresses, had been corralled away from each other to opposing sides of the store while they all tried on robes and were fitted and measured.

"It's not my fault you don't pay attention to your surroundings," Malfoy told her.

"Whatever," Hermione rolled her eyes in irritation, already low on patience after having to search for a dress for so long and fed up with Pansy, who was screeching like a shrew about every gown she tried on and being less than subtle as she cursed about the Ministry, the shop assistants, the gowns, Ron, the Weasleys and the entire marriage institution.

"Where do you want to go for this ridiculous Honeymoon?" Hermione asked him bluntly.

"Somewhere cold," Malfoy replied with a shrug.

"I wonder if they're likely to send us anywhere outside of Britain," Ginny said and Hermione noticed the way the girl seemed to have no qualms about Malfoy having shown up and imposed on their conversation.

"Probably, else they're going to run out of locations to send all of us, especially if they want to keep us entirely secluded," He said, "I'm still hungry. Are you hungry?"

Hermione stared at him with raised eyebrows, even as she noticed suddenly that he appeared to have wandered off mid-measuring since he was garbed in a half sewn suit with one sleeve missing while a tape measure hovered around him. If they bothered him, he gave no indication.

"How can you still be hungry?" Hermione demanded, noticing that even though he was complaining of hunger, he was currently munching on what looked like an oversized chocolate chip biscuit.

"I'm not actually hungry for food," he replied with another shrug and a mouthful of cookie dough, "And you're depriving me of what I want. If I stop feeding the wolf now I'm likely to take a bite out of you."

Hermione felt her body respond to his words as a flash of desire smacked her over the head, making her feel a little like swooning stupidly.

"But what are you doing sneaking up on me?" She asked, quashing the feeling and trying to focus even though she' begun eyeing the way he was nibbling his cookie in a way that was less than appropriate.

"You wanted to talk to me," he told her.

"No I didn't," Hermione said, puzzled.

"You did Granger. About where to go for the honeymoon…. And I wanted to ask if you were hungry."

"For you or for food?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Either?" he grinned, his eyes trailing over her hungrily.

"Well, no, I'm not," Hermione said, even as her heart rate kicked up a gear and she had to tense her muscles when she realised she was considering the idea of leaning forwards and licking a cookie crumb off his lip.

"You really need to stop lying to me Granger," he smirked at her.

"I'm not lying," Hermione protested, noticing that everyone was still watching them subtly, except Ginny, whose attention had been drawn away by the fact that Blaise had just sauntered out of his cubicle shirtless.

"Yes you are. I can smell it, remember?" he tapped the side of his nose, looking entirely too wicked for Hermione's liking and for the continued state of dryness in her knickers, which were rapidly dampening.

"Your nose is lying to you," Hermione told him, looking away and trying not to blush.

"You know I can hear the way your heart's racing too, right?" he asked her, "Meaning I know the way it speeds up whenever I get close and the way it blips every time you lie to me."

"Well, desist with the smelling and the listening. Where do you want to go for this honeymoon thing?" Hermione said, growing impatient even as her cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink. They darkened further when she saw the way George was making swooning motions over by Harry and Ron, both of whom were eyeing her looking confused and utterly disturbed by the fact that she was blushing to be near Malfoy.

"Anywhere with a big soft bed suits me fine," Malfoy retorted and Hermione snapped her eyes back to her face.

"Stop it!" She hissed at him.

"Stop what, wifey?" He grinned.

"Stop saying things like that to me! And stop calling me that!"

"Do they turn you on?" he chuckled wickedly and Hermione wanted to melt through the floor. Logically she knew that no one would be able to hear them muttering to each other, except maybe Ginny who had heard him say worse last night. But logic didn't make her any more capable of rationalising the fact that it felt like everyone was watching and listening and judging them.

"No. Now be reasonable and answer the question with a proper location, or I'm picking where we go without consulting you and you'll just have to deal with it."

"Pick whatever you want," he told her, taking another bite of his cookie, "Either way you're going to spend the vast majority of those two week under me while I have my way with you, so as long as there's food and a bed, I don't care where we go."

"Malfoy!" Hermione hissed, outraged and glancing around to make sure no one had heard him.

"Cookie?" he asked innocently, offering her a biscuit as he pulled two of them out of his pocket.

"I'm going to kill you," Hermione told him.

"You couldn't if you tried," he grinned and Hermione buried her face in her hands, feeling defeated.

When she felt a warm hand rubbing her back comfortingly, Hermione tensed, thinking it was him and she breathed a sigh of relief when she realised it was actually Ginny.

"Come on," the red-head said to her, "Let's go find Madame Atwell before you turn purple with how hard you're blushing. And _you_, go back and finish getting you suit made and stop torturing my best friend."

Hermione heard the soft growl Malfoy gave but Ginny rolled her eyes and linked her arm through Hermione's, leading her away from the horny werewolf.

"You know this is only going to get worse, right?" Malfoy said softly as Hermione moved away. She stiffened for a moment, wanting to hex him and hurl herself at him at the same time and closed her eyes, taking a deep, slow breath in before letting it out and searching for Madame Atwell without looking back at him.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Hermione groaned when she finally dropped into her bed.

She felt like she'd never lived through a longer day and she was very much interested in the idea of dropping right off to sleep and didn't care whether or not she ever woke again. The late night and alcohol from the night before were catching up to her and the day had been impossibly trying.

True to his word, things with Malfoy had gotten worse when they'd all stopped for lunch and he'd taken special care to sit next to her. It seemed to baffle all of their combined friends except Ginny and Blaise that he didn't seem able to help himself. The knowing smirk on Narcissa's face hadn't helped matters when Malfoy had put his hand on Hermione's thigh under the table, all the more disconcerting and utterly enticing given that unlike last night, today it had been skin-to-skin contact.

Since they'd already been making something of a scene, Hermione hadn't dared to try and shove him away, though she had taken hold of his hand and resorted to holding it when he'd tried to slide it up her thigh and beneath the hem of her skirt. She could still feel the ghost of his touch against her flesh and it made her tingle with need. She suspected that while Malfoy's dosage had clearly hit him hard and burned through his system quickly, hers seemed to be taking longer and having the opposite effect, it had hit mildly to begin with but had begun to build into a steady burn inside her abdomen for the yearning to be touched.

The idea that tomorrow they would be given another dose, which would not doubt render him unable to keep his hands off her again made her quiver with desire and tremble with terror. She was concerned that she wasn't going to be able to resist his unrelenting advances until their wedding day and even more concerned that if she did give in, and fall into bed with him, she might not get back out of that bed.

The afternoon had been trying. Madame Atwell hadn't been very helpful in regard to settling on places for them to all go on their honeymoons. She'd given Hermione and Ginny each a list of locations and told them to select where they would like to go. When she'd showed the list to Malfoy, hoping he might be able to help her decide since it was literally a list of names of resorts and private mansions and didn't provided details to where it was located, he'd informed her that most of them were in Britain, though he'd informed her there were some located in tropical locations including the Greek Isles and one on the coast of Spain. He'd also reiterated that it wouldn't matter where they went since it was unlikely they'd leave their room.

Hermione had sighed and pointed to one of the names that sounded vaguely Russian. Malfoy had told her that the building was one of many private villas belonging to some wealthy Russian politician within the Russian Ministry for Magic and was located high in the mountains where it was always snowing. He'd also told her that it would be a perfect choice since it was unlikely either of them would want to leave the house anyway, so the snow would give them an excuse to stay in bed.

She'd nearly told him to stuff his idea of going somewhere cold in favour of somewhere tropical when he'd told her that. She'd also suggested that it might be nice to go somewhere in Africa where they could at least interact with animals since people were a no-go and the idea of being stuck with just him for company for two whole weeks had disturbed her. He'd suggested it would be a terrible idea because they would undoubtedly be attacked by lions or African wild dogs because they sensed the wolf and wanted to befriend it or kill it.

When she said that sounded fine to her he'd leaned over and nipped her neck, making goose-pimples explode across her skin and causing her to draw in a ragged breath, even as Ron and several others looked on, their attention drawn by her loud gasp. He hadn't even bothered to say anything, he'd just nipped her and then looked at her heatedly. Clearly knowing that he was driving her wild with desire and the hormones effecting her objected to the idea of him dying. Eventually they'd settled on choosing the Russian villa, though Hermione had refused to acknowledge his smug smile, clearly believing that his nip was enough to make her want to be locked inside with him for days on end.

Just as she was rearranging her pillows and settling down, preparing to turn her light off and get some much needed sleep, Hermione heard an owl tapping at her window. She groaned again, waving her wand and feeling an uncomfortable flutter of curiosity when she recognised Malfoy's eagle owl. The bird seemed to know she wasn't interested in getting out of bed because it flew over to land by her feet and then hopped up the bed until she could take the letter from the leg it proffered to her.

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, stroking the creature's head carefully and surprised when it responded affectionately since she'd assumed that belonging to Malfoy, it would be more likely to bite her. She unfurled the scroll of parchment, rolling her eyes at the green wax seal pressed with the Malfoy Family insignia

_**Hello Wifey,**_

_**We have another appointment at the hospital tomorrow. They sent me a reminder, the sods. As though I'd be able to forget they're going to inject me with more drugs to inebriate my free will again?**_

_**Mother's insisting that afterwards, you attend the Manor for dinner with me and my family. I don't think she was very pleased by the idea of us getting drunk again, which I informed her we would be doing instead. She's glaring at me as I write this like she'd enjoyed stabbing me with the stirring rod she's fiddling with. **_

_**Anyway, you've been cordially invited to Malfoy Manor for dinner at seven o'clock tomorrow evening. I'm told we're to dress 'appropriately' and that 'untoward behaviour' such as that which I displayed in company with you today will not be tolerated. Not to mention it will put Father off his dinner – won't that be fun?**_

_**I think she's concerned you'll give in to my charms and shag me when they dose us again tomorrow. Hence the idea of a formal dinner where she can seat you at the other end of the table to me and have another werewolf here (father) to make sure we don't do something exciting.**_

_**The bird will wait for you to reply with your RSVP on the dinner invitation.**_

_**Might as well start moving your stuff here tomorrow too. I'm being instructed to inform you that though this is a formal invitation, declination will not be tolerated or accepted. What did you do to my mother that she's so insistent on having you here?**_

_**-D.**_

_**P.S. I know you're probably in bed, so I feel it's only right to remind you that I slept there with you last night. Your pillows probably even smell like me. **_

Hermione stared at the letter in her hands, annoyed once more by the way he'd called her 'wifey' even though he knew she didn't like it. The idea of going to Malfoy Manor turned her stomach, especially the idea of going there to sit through some stuffy dinner with Mr and Mrs Malfoy. The fact that the woman had insisted made Hermione not want to go even more, but she could just imagine how incredibly awkward and annoying things would be if she tried to refuse.

Then again, the idea of going meant that she wouldn't have to fight off Malfoy's advances by herself when they dosed him tomorrow. She wasn't sure she'd be able to resist him entirely on her own. Utterly annoyed by the entire letter and yet mildly amused by the fact the she could practically hear him drawling every word into her ear as she read it off the page in his elegant cursive hand writing, Hermione dug into her bedside drawer for a muggle biro rather than bothering trying to use her quill and ink while in bed.

She cursed when she tried to write on the back of the parchment only to realise he must have charmed it so that she wouldn't be able to and so would have to hang onto the letter with his irritating little P.S. on the bottom there to torment her all night. Scowling in frustration, she tore a page out of the notebook she kept by her bed and penned him a reply.

**_Malfoy,_**

**_I washed the sheets already to get that 'wet dog' smell out that you left here. Also, I told you not to call me 'wifey'. When you're least expecting it, I'm going to smother you with something if you do it again._**

**_In regards to your dinner invitation, it would seem I have no choice but to attend else moving in is going to be an awkward affair. Tell your mother that if she tries to impose on me this way again I will downgrade my definition of 'dressing appropriately' to ratty pyjamas, and that I do not take kindly to being ordered around. Tell her I also approve of any plan that may involve you being stabbed with something and that she can do better than a stirring rod if she really wants to drive the point home._**

**_However, the idea of your parents keeping your grabby hands off me sounds delightful, so in this instance I will accept their invitation._**

**_Even without the invitation, you and I would not be getting drunk tomorrow evening because you would somehow swindle your way into my bed again and I only own so many sets of sheets. I can't have you stinking up any more of them with that werewolf funk. _**

**_And by the way, you left your belt here._**

**_The idea of moving my things in earlier than necessary sounds to me like an insidious plan to lure me into your bedroom, so I think I'll be passing on bringing any of my things to Malfoy Manor sooner than absolutely necessary._**

**_And in regard to what I did to your mother, I honestly have no idea though I suspect you heard our conversation today while we were shopping. I would recommend taking her temperature to be sure she's not falling ill. She was nice to me, and it disturbed me greatly. She even complimented my figure in a roundabout way. It may be necessary that you take her to St. Mungo's with you for the appointment tomorrow if her irregular and highly suspect behaviour continues._**

**_Why haven't you explained in detail what it is that you think is going to happen to you if they keep dosing me with werewolf DNA?_**

**_-Hermione._**

**_P. S. Nice trick with the charmed parchment, but just because I couldn't write on it does not mean I'm not going to burn it. You will not taunt me with your words._**

Hermione tapped the paper with her wand until it rolled into a neat scroll and tied it with the same piece of string Malfoy had used to the bird's leg.

"Thanks. Safe flight," Hermione told the owl when it hooted at her before soaring back out the window.

In spite of her sleepiness, Hermione laid awake for a long time after that mulling over the idea that she was going to have to marry the git and that thanks to the injections she already wanted to feel him run his hands over her body until it stopped tingling this way. She glanced around in the dark before looking at the spare pillow on the other side of the bed. She'd lied about changing the sheets. She hadn't even thought about the fact that he'd slept here last night, or about the fact that maybe they would smell like him.

She debated with herself mentally about the merits of giving in to his taunting and smelling them to see if they really did smell like him and she kind of hated herself when she glanced around guiltily before picking it up and bringing it to her face. Her whole body shuddered as the earthy, musky, woodsy scent of the wolf, combined with his citrus scent overrode the rest of her senses, making her want him even more than she had before.

As she laid there with the pillow against her chest, his scent tickling her nose, Hermione found herself irritated that she'd come to bed last night and not even realised he'd been in the bed next to her. Had he spooned up behind her and cuddled her all night? Had she snuggled over in her sleep and rested her head on his chest? Had he wrapped his arms around her and held her close or had he laid there and laughed at the way she squeaked and twitched in her sleep?

He'd already been up when she'd awoken to shower, and so she couldn't remember what it had been like sleeping beside him. She trembled when the thought occurred to her that come next Friday, she'd probably never sleep in a bed without him next to her ever again. The thought bothered her less than it should and Hermione groaned to herself.

Her stomach was tangled up in knots at the idea of attending a formal dinner with the Malfoy's the following evening and she found herself mentally rummaging through her cupboard for something understated but 'appropriate' to wear to the event. The idea of going back to that mansion filled her with a sense of dread and she shuddered beneath the bed covers, torn between the fear and hatred of the place her past had given her and the knowledge that she had no choice but to move there.

In spite of her words, Hermione knew too that she would need to begin packing tomorrow, knowing she'd need to move her things to his house before the wedding if she hoped to have them their afterwards. Especially with the knowledge that when they returned from the honeymoon, the full moon would be upon them. Hermione was nervous about the idea of staying in the house during both Malfoy males undergoing the transformation and she wondered if she ought to ask Ginny if she could stay with her and Blaise on the full moon, just to be safe. She wouldn't put it past Mr Malfoy to 'forget' to take his potion and possibly attack her to try getting rid of her.

She jumped in surprise when the eagle owl swooped back through the still open window, startling out of her musings and making her quickly stuff the pillow she was still cuddling to the side, feeling guilty to have been caught even by a bird.

_**Granger,**_

_**You know the endearment is growing on you. Just admit it. Also I don't believe you about the sheets. I'll bet you completely forgot to change them when you fell into bed after what I'm thinking was probably a long and not entirely relaxing bubble bath. Am I right?**_

_**I haven't told you about the effects you assimilating anymore more werewolf DNA will have on me because you'll know soon enough and will probably try to do something foolish like running from me, were I to tell you.**_

_**As for the other matter, regarding whether or not I can taunt you with my words, perhaps you'd care to read on and find out just how well you do at remaining unaffected by my words while I describe all the things I'm going to do to you?**_

_**Would you care to know about all the things I'm going to do to you? All the things I'm going to make you feel? How you're going to be begging me to have my way with you by this time next week? How I'm going to press you into a wall and shag you until you forget your own name?**_

_**I'll bet the idea of having my hands running over your soft skin is making you quiver right now. You're probably biting your lip enticingly at the very thought of having me so close to you, trailing my fingers across your flesh, teasing your taut nipples with my lips the same way I do when I nibble on your neck. **_

_**I saw the way you shivered with delight and could scent how much you wanted to press yourself against me today. Can you feel it, Granger? While you're lying there cuddling that pillow that smells like me, can you feel my lips and tongue against your throat? Can you feel my hands gliding up your creamy thighs?**_

_**I'll bet you can. I'll bet you're letting out one of those involuntary little whimpers that make me want to take you on the nearest flat surface just to hear the other sounds I might be able to elicit from you. In fact I'll bet your lying there reading this and wishing I would suddenly appear in your bedroom and do all of these things to you.**_

_**Maybe I will….**_

_**-D.**_

Hermione hated him when she realised she was in fact biting her lip and had whimpered needily. She hated him for writing it and tormenting her. She hated herself for the fact that she was clearly too obvious about her feelings and growing neediness and sense of desire if he could so easily pluck the very ideas that had been racing around her mind and put them right there on the parchment. Merlin, she wanted him to do those things to her and Hermione wanted to sob at the knowledge that she wanted Draco Malfoy to be the one to do them all to her.

She glared at the half-promise suggested as his final sentence and felt a sense of yearning burn inside herself at the very idea of him somehow showing up in her bedroom at that moment to have his way with her. She scowled when she realised she was in fact still clutching the pillow that smelled like him, clutching it even tighter now with all these forbidden thoughts racing through her mind.

Reaching for another piece of note-paper and trying to push the naughty ideas out of her mind Hermione began to pen a reply.

**_Malfoy,_**

**_Nice try, but you're going to have to do better than that. You're the one out of your mind with lust, not me. To me your suggestions are merely disturbing. And don't even think about trying to show up here. It's the middle of the night and I've been putting up with you since yesterday. I may be forced to hex you if I have to see you again so soon._**

**_Besides, do you really want to play this game with me? Does it seem wise to challenge me to see which of us can be more effected by the other's words? Do you really want me to write suggestive things to you? Do you think you can handle that?_**

**_Shall we find out?_**

**_Should we discuss how much you want to run those hands over my soft skin, feeling the goose-bumps prickle at your touch? How much you want to press yourself against me, hearing my heart beating unevenly at having you so close? Would you like me to tell you about the way you can feel that hunger for me gnawing at you, eating away at your self-control? Should I tell you about the way you would lean in trying to kiss my lips, only to be distracted by the sight of my exposed neck, offered to you, knowing how badly you and your wolf both want to sink your teeth into my skin?_**

**_Would it test your control to feel me clutching at you as you did so? To hear me crying out for more as your hands wandered over my body, exploring every sinful inch of me? To feel me arching into your touch and urging you on, my nails digging in insistently if you took too long to give me what we both want?_**

**_Does the idea of me laid out naked beneath you make your heart race? Do you want to feel me reaching for you, pulling you closer and closer until we're as close as two people can be? Can you feel the way my legs would be tight around your hips, urging you into me harder? Faster? My breath ragged as I called your name, lost amid the sea of blissful desire that you alone could inspire._**

**_Does it turn you on to think of me lying in my bed clutching the pillow that smells like you as I write these words to you Draco? Are you squirming to know that unlike last night, I'm not wearing anything to bed? Do you wish you were here, drinking in the sight of my hair all tussled and my body bared to your gaze, hot and bothered and positively aching for you?_**

**_Do such thoughts make you yearn for me?_**

**_I'll be they do. I'll bet the very suggestion has you clenching your fists and staring at the ceiling fighting for control to stay where you are rather than seeking me out and having your wicked way with me. I'll bet the wolf is fighting you, clawing to be released._**

**_Do you know what else I'll wager, Malfoy? I'll wager that before you get to lay a finger on me and hear me moan for you, you will literally be howling for me, because I'm going to make you wait. No matter how much those hormones make you and I want to tear each other's clothes off and have at each other until we're completely sated, I'm going to make you wait._**

**_Until next Friday, you're going to lay there in your bed feeling those silk sheets gliding against your skin, wishing it was my skin pressed against yours so intimately, wishing it was me wrapped around you, clutching you close. Until next Friday you're going to go completely mental with lust for me and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it while you writhe with the agony of restraint._**

**_Now, stop writing me dirty letters. I'm clearly better at it than you. And go to sleep so that I can get the much needed sleep required to keep from killing you when I have to see you tomorrow._**

**_Pleasant dreams, Malfoy. All of me naked and sprawled exhausted across your chest in the aftermath of everything you yearn to do to me._**

**_-Hermione._**

Though she couldn't see it, Hermione's face quirked up into a smirk that uncannily replicated Malfoy's signature expression as she rolled up the scroll of parchment, tapping it with her want to seal it and tying it to the same piece of string.

"Don't let him send me anymore tonight," Hermione told the eagle-owl that was patiently awaiting her response, "I'm going to sleep now so you won't be able to get back in. Safe flight."

The owl hooted in understanding before it swept back out the window and Hermione waved her wand to close the window behind the bird. As she sank back down in her bed, she cuddled the pillow that smelled like him even closer, taking a deep breath in through her nose and breathing him in. Hermione sighed as she waved her wand to turn out the light.

She fell asleep still smirking wickedly and she dreamt of how Malfoy would react to her letter.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Hermione woke to the sound of Ginny singing in the shower like she did every other morning, and to the insistent tapping of an owl at her window. Thinking it must be another letter from Malfoy, she waved her wand, letting the disgruntled bird into the room before noticing that instead of Malfoy's eagle owl, this owl was a grumpy brown barn owl.

It hooted indignantly as it flew over to her bed and stuck out its leg impatiently.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," Hermione told the bird apologetically, smiling when it ruffled its feathers and looked somewhat appeased.

She stared at the letter in her hands, not recognising the insignia in the wax seal even as she broke it open.

**_Dear Hermione_**

**_I hope this finds you well. I was wondering if you and Ginny would be interested in the idea of all of us brides getting together and having some kind of bridal shower? I know how important the two of you are to Harry and in spite of the law behind our upcoming nuptials I really do want for Harry and I to make a good match. I'm also aware of the animosity between you, Ginny and Pansy. I thought it might be nice if we all got together for a girl's night where we can laugh and have a wine or two._**

**_I think it will do us all good to let off some steam about this, we are all going to become quite close, after all and so I thought, why not?_**

**_I already wrote to Millicent, Angelina, Luna, and Hannah. They all liked the idea. Pansy is being obnoxious about it, but if need be I'll drag her by the hair. We're just waiting on confirmation from you and Ginny so we can pick a day that suits everyone._**

**_I look forward to hearing from you,_**

**_-Tracy Davis._**

Hermione smiled at the idea, thinking it might be nice. After all, Tracy seemed decent and though Millicent was a bit of a brute, she hadn't been as obnoxious as Hermione had remembered her being at school.

"Ginny?" Hermione called out, donning her robe quickly and offering her shoulder to the barn owl, meaning to feed him an owl treat while she spoke to Ginny.

"Hermione? Is everything ok?" Ginny asked, coming out of the bathroom still towel-drying her long hair.

"Everything's fine. We've got a letter here from Tracy. She's suggesting we all get together, just the brides and have a little bridal shower to let of some steam and get to know each other better. After all, you, Luna and I all know each other quite well, and Angelina too since she's always been around what with everyone on the Quidditch team at school. But we don't really know Hannah that well, or Tracy. Millicent's a bit surly, but she seemed nice enough yesterday. She even tried to help me pick a dress….. I don't like the idea of seeing Pansy again, but she is going to be your sister-in-law and will be in our lives quite a bit."

"I think it sounds fun. We could even go to a little lingerie shop together and pick some outrageous things for each other to wear on our honeymoons," Ginny said, looking excited by the idea.

"You expect me to wear lingerie for Malfoy?" Hermione asked drily.

"Yes. It will be fun and will make everything that much more exciting. Besides we'll be drugged out of our minds with lust, it's not like we're going to be shy about it," Ginny smiled wickedly.

"You are entirely too in love with Blaise," Hermione accused her friend, smiling.

"Guilty as charged," Ginny shrugged unapologetically, "Come on let's write back to her that we love the idea. We could go tonight."

"Not tonight," Hermione argued, "Malfoy wrote to me last night to inform me that his mother is insisting I go to the Manor for dinner after we get out injections tonight."

"And you're going to go?" Ginny's face screwing up with a look of disbelief and distaste.

"Well I'm a little worried that if I don't I'll end up in bed with Malfoy again, only this time I'll be less drunk and more likely to shag him."

"The injections are getting to you too, huh?" Ginny said.

"Yes. It didn't help that Malfoy sent me a suggestive letter…. Is it getting to you too?"

"I think so. I mean, I always kind of want to shag Blaise, but it is beginning to feel more urgent. How are things going with you getting more lupine?" Ginny asked her.

"Did you see the size of what I had for dinner last night?" Hermione asked her friend seriously.

Ginny nodded.

"After we got home and you'd gone to bed I made myself that pasta dish I take to Christmas lunch with your family…. The one that usually feeds all of us…. And I ate it all myself." Hermione admitted, feeling a little ashamed of herself.

"That's a lot of pasta," Ginny whistled low, "But it's normal right? You told me it's normal for you to start getting hungrier and craving meat a little rarer."

"It is, I'm just concerned…. I feel all hot and bothered every time I think about Malfoy and I don't know if it's the injection, the werewolf DNA or if it's just my body reacting to the fact that he can't seem to keep his hands off me. It probably doesn't help that no one but Malfoy has laid a finger on me since Ron and I broke up."

"Well, it has been a long time since either of us got laid, or even touched in a sexual way at all," Ginny offered.

"Yeah, but I'm day-dreaming about Malfoy," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.

Ginny laughed, "You're supposed to be thinking about Malfoy. They're drugging you to make sure you do and they're making you marry him. I'd be concerned if you were thinking about Ron or someone given the fact that less than a week from now you'll be Mrs Hermione Malfoy."

"You're not making me feel better," Hermione told her friend, "I'm going to reply to Tracy and then shower or I'm going to be late for work."

"We got an owl yesterday morning telling us that for the next month anyone included in the 'Unfortunate 230' – as we've been dubbed – is not required to come into work until after the honeymoon period is over. We're all being given paid leave."

"But didn't you have training this morning?" Hermione asked, wondering what other reason would have Ginny out of bed of early.

"Yeah, I got a letter from Valmai yesterday telling me training was still on if I wanted to come in. Figured I might as well keep going this week. I'm going to get behind during the honeymoon as it is. But you don't have to go. The letter was very specific from Kingsley himself pardoning you from work and stating that if under any circumstance excepting a dire emergency, he found you at the office he was going to hex you."

"He can't do that" Hermione exclaimed, shocked.

"Read it for yourself if you don't believe me. I think it's his way of apologising for sticking you with Malfoy. He's given you the whole week to lay around in bed and sulk if you want to. Besides, it's Saturday."

"I can't stay in bed. It smells like Malfoy," Hermione sighed, "What have you got planned for the day?"

"I was thinking of sorting through my things and starting to do some packing to move to Blaise's house," Ginny admitted with a smile, "Are you going to be ok going to dinner with the Malfoys tonight?"

"I have no idea," Hermione replied as she finished replying to Tracy. Telling her they would be delighted to come and that a stop at a lingerie shop was in order. She signed her name and Ginny's at the bottom. It was bad enough having Malfoy always lingering so close. She didn't want to give anyone the idea that she approved or encouraged such behaviour.

"Did you tell her about my lingerie idea?" Ginny asked as the bird flew out the open kitchen window.

"Yes. You'll get something cute and sexy to wear for Blaise. Does this mean I have to start packing my things to move to Malfoy Manor?"

"Probably," Ginny replied, "How are you going to handle living there?"

"Malfoy told me that the drawing room where Bellatrix tortured me was in his father's wing of the Manor and that I would under no circumstance be going to his father's wing, so it wouldn't be an issue," Hermione replied, "I'm nervous though. I hate that house and it was so dark and awful the last time I was there…."

"Maybe they've redecorated. I imagine that after having Voldemort there that probably didn't want any reminders," Ginny suggested.

"I hope so. Because if not I'm going to insist on redecorating my room."

"Your room?" Ginny asked, intrigued and confused.

"Malfoy said I'd have my own room for all my belongings and for Crookshanks and my books and everything even though I'll have to sleep in his room." Hermione said "I imagine it will probably link to his room to make things easy."

"He's giving you your own room?" Ginny asked and Hermione could see her friend frowning.

"Why do you look annoyed about that?" Hermione asked.

"The two of you are getting married and you're moving into his house. You're supposed to be able to decorate your marriage home however you like. I doubt Blaise will object when I hang things in the living room or put pictures on the mantle…."

"It's Malfoy Manor, Ginny," Hermione laughed, "I don't want my things strewn out all over the house. I'll be spending most of my time while I'm there in my room anyway."

"I'm just so used to thinking of houses in terms of ours or Mum and Dad's," Ginny said "I can't imagine the idea of living in a massive mansion without a cosy living room and a warm kitchen where we all gathered for meals…."

"I suspect I'll spend many a meal with you anyway," Hermione smiled at her friend, feeling a little daunted by the idea of going to Malfoy Manor, "I wonder where Harry and Ron are going to live."

"I've been wondering that too. I assume they're going to move out of their flat."

"Maybe we should go and see them? I can just imagine Ron suggesting to Parkinson that she move in there with him," Hermione replied.

Ginny laughed, "You have a quick shower and we'll surprise them for breakfast, being a Saturday you know they'll still be in bed."

Hermione grinned at her friend before they stepped around each other, Ginny heading for her bedroom to dress and Hermione stepping into the steamy bathroom to turn on the hot water.

Ten minutes later she stood in her room, drying herself and looking for something to wear in her drawers. Just as she fastened her bra behind her back and was reaching for a t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves to hide the hand-print bruises on her biceps from view, Hermione almost jumped out of her skin as a resounding crack broke the air.

Spinning with her wand at the ready Hermione scowled when she caught sight of the fact that someone had literally just apparated into her bedroom and was standing there staring at her hungrily.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione snarled at Malfoy, noticing that he wore jeans low on his hips and hadn't bothered to button his shirt, "How did you get in here?"

"Morning wifey," he greeted her, his low drawl making her shiver even as Hermione realised suddenly that she was only in her underwear, something he was taking shameless advantage of as his eyes trailed over her body hungrily.

"Don't point that thing at me," he told her when he noticed her wand trained on him.

"Then don't point that thing at me," Hermione fired back with an indicative nod at the front of his trousers.

"Can't help it," Malfoy smirked.

"How did you get in here?"

Malfoy held up his left hand, showing her the ring on his wedding finger, "You're my fiancé and that means your wards can't keep me out."

"And you think that means you can just show up here whenever you feel like it?" Hermione demanded.

"I figured you'd still be in bed. Does it surprise you that I'm here after the letter you sent to me last night?" Malfoy asked her, coming closer and drawing her gaze to the way his stomach muscles rippled as he moved.

"I told you not to come here because I needed sleep to keep from killing you."

"Well, you're awake now," he grinned.

"Are you always going to be this insufferable?" Hermione asked him seriously, sighing and lowering her wand before pulling her t-shirt over her head and reaching for a pair of jeans.

"You're mispronouncing fantastic," Malfoy told her, "Why are you getting dressed?"

"So that you'll stop perving on me," Hermione told him, turning her back.

"Clothes won't stop me doing that," he informed her even as he came up behind her while she dug around in her sock drawer.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, not looking at him even when he put his hands against her chest of drawers either side of her body, caging her in his arms.

"You smell amazing this morning," he told her, his voice husky with desire.

"It's called soap" Hermione told him drily. She gasped when his cool fingers brushed against her neck, picking up her damp hair and laying it over one shoulder. Her whole body shuddered when he stepped closer until his body pressed against the length of hers, one of his arms wrapped around her middle, slipping straight under the hem of her shirt and gliding over her stomach just light enough to tease.

"Don't," Hermione breathed, already breathless at the feel of him against her, her heart pounding out an uneven beat that she had no doubt he could hear.

"You're cruel," he murmured into her ear, teasing the skin there with his warm breath before lowering his mouth to the curve of her neck. Before Hermione could stop him or control herself, she whimpered at the feel of him trailing a hot line of kisses down her neck and to the spot he loved best.

"How am I cruel?" Hermione demanded breathlessly, clenching a pair of socks in her fist when she felt him lightly drag his teeth over the spot. He'd been tormenting it so much that it had already grown extra-sensitive and the feel of his caress made her quiver in his hold.

He chuckled softly, triumphantly, at her reaction.

"You intend to torment me until Friday," he murmured, nipping at the skin and making her gasp again.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" Hermione demanded, shuddering with desire as his fingers danced over her skin beneath her shirt, heading for her breasts.

"To see you," he murmured, "You can't write things like you did last night and expect no reaction… no retaliation…. That's against the rules Granger."

"What rules?" Hermione asked, not even realising until it was too late that she'd dropped one of her arms and was gripping his thigh through his jeans needily.

"The unwritten rules that say you're not allowed to torment me like that unless you want me to ravish you senseless," Malfoy murmured, between kisses as he kissed his way back up her neck.

Her breath caught in her throat when the hand he didn't have inside her shirt and creeping towards her breasts gently caught her chin and turned her face towards his so he could kiss his way along her jaw. She whimpered at the sensation as his lips trailed across her cheek, leaving feather-light kisses as he went while his fingers skimmed over the fabric of her bra.

His hand slipped inside her bra to cup her left breast as his lips kissed the corner of her mouth and Hermione moaned softly at the feel of his cool hand cupping her sensitive taut nipple, making it harder.

"Don't," she breathed when he smirked against her, moving his lips towards hers. He'd already kissed the corner of her mouth and she knew he'd taken her moan as all the permission he needed to kiss her properly.

"Hermione are you alright?" Ginny's voice called as the girl opened the door to Hermione's bedroom, "I thought I heard someone apparating….. Oh my gosh!"

Malfoy began to snarl softly, his lips just millimetres from kissing hers hungrily.

"Ginny!" Hermione called, knowing her friend was probably aiming her wand at Malfoy's back since she probably couldn't see past his back to see Hermione standing in his arms.

"Hermione? Are you ok?" Ginny asked, "Want me to hex him."

"If you want," Hermione said, grinning even as she pulled away from Malfoy, dragging his hand out of her shirt and ducking beneath his arm quickly to face her friend. He was snarling softly in warning, clearly displeased at being interrupted.

"What is he doing here?" Ginny asked, choosing not to comment on Hermione's blushing cheeks.

"I wish I knew," Hermione told her.

"I would've thought it obvious," Malfoy replied, sounding snarly, "And you're interrupting Weaselette."

"I think Cranky Wolf woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Hermione told her friend with a smirk.

"Or maybe I didn't sleep well because you were sending me dirty, suggestive letters," Malfoy retorted, and Hermione hissed in annoyance as she spun back to face him, noticing his eyes were gold again instead of silver.

"I don't think I want to know," Ginny said, grinning, "But you're going to give me all the details about this later 'Mione."

Hermione blushed crimson at the very idea.

"There's nothing to tell," Hermione said shortly, "Malfoy's lying."

"Really, wifey?" he purred in her ear and Hermione tensed when he wrapped himself around her again from behind her, burrowing his face back to his favourite spot and fitting his teeth against it, making Hermione whimper involuntarily again.

"I'm going to leave you to it," Ginny said, "Come and get me when you're ready to go to Harry and Ron's place, okay 'Mione?"

"Don't you dare leave me," Hermione told her friend, feeling panicked.

"I don't want to watch Malfoy maul you 'Mione and he looks like he might hurt me if I don't leave."

"Damned right," Malfoy growled and Hermione stomped on his foot, realising as she did that they were both barefoot. In his surprise he bit down on her shoulder and Hermione hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth. Almost immediately she felt her body begin to shudder and tremble again as more werewolf DNA was triggered in her system.

"What did you do to her?" Hermione heard Ginny demand of Malfoy.

She felt like the words were fuzzy and far away even when Malfoy cursed and her back arched, her body bowing in Malfoy's grip outside of Hermione's control as the werewolf genetics wreaked further havoc in her system. She shook harder until she felt like she was going to vibrate right out of her own skin.

"Weasley, you need to get out of here," Malfoy's voice said by her ear, still sounding distant.

"What did you do?" Ginny demanded again, clearly afraid for Hermione.

"I accidentally bit her. The werewolf gene already in her system from the injection is reacting to having more forced in, this time through an actual bite."

"Why did you bite her?"

"I didn't mean to. She stomped on my foot," Malfoy said.

Hermione was only distantly aware of them arguing. She felt like she was going to tear apart. She had no control of herself and she knew that if not for Malfoy's tight grip on her body, she'd probably be a twitching heap on the floor. Her knees buckled and gave out, her breath began to pant in and out and all over she felt like someone was pricking her with tiny needles at high speed, making her body sting and burn at the same time.

"Make it stop!" Hermione heard Ginny snap at Malfoy.

"I can't," he told her.

"Why is she reacting like this?"

"Because she's being given the gene a little at a time, rather than via me marking her."

"So mark her!" Ginny said, "She's in pain."

"I can't mark her like this."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't work like that. If I try to mark her without shagging her she's going to scream for a week and writhe in agony. And then she'll have to endure that pain every full moon!"

"Then how do we make it stop?"

"You need to get out!" Malfoy said and Hermione could feel the gravelly snarl of his wolf in his voice. As she struggled and trembled in his tight hold, Hermione could feel the wolf inside him wanting to slip the tight leash Malfoy kept him on. Wanting to…. Protect her.

"Malfoy," Hermione managed through gritted teeth, her whole body still trembling even as the bite began to sting a little less, "Let me go."

"Don't, she'll fall" Ginny argued.

"Let. Go!" Hermione snarled and she as vaguely aware of the shocked expression on Ginny's face to hear the decidedly lupine snarl coming out of Hermione's mouth.

"Bollocks!" Malfoy cursed, lowering her to the ground quickly even as Hermione began to writhe.

She groaned as the stinging began to subside throughout her body, culminating in her hands.

"Argh!" Hermione whimpered as she felt her flesh tear open, her fingernails hardening and lengthening into sharp claws that she raked against her carpet without conscious thought of doing it.

"Weasley, Out! Now!" Hermione heard Malfoy bark when he caught sight of her claws.

Ginny didn't need to be told again when Hermione snarled and violently shredded more carpet. Blood stained the shredded mess and Hermione sobbed when the claws suddenly weakened and tore right off as she tried to rake them into the carpet again.

"Fuck!" she heard Malfoy curse before his hands seized her wrists, and held them tight, his grip gentle but his hold unrelenting even when she tried to jerk them away from him. Hermione heard herself sob again even as the pain finally left her body but for the ache as she watched fingernails re-grow in the nail beds, looking bloody and ragged.

"You're alright," Malfoy told her, when she drew in a ragged breath, her heart racing with fear at whatever it was that had just happened to her. She might be used to the werewolf curse, but she'd never heard of anyone not a werewolf growing claws spontaneously and never outside of the full moon.

Hermione realised she was crying when he gently tugged her into his lap and tucked her head beneath his chin, releasing her hands to hold her softly.

"What just happened?" she whispered to him, hoping he might have the answer.

"I bit you," he told her softly.

"Does that mean you marked me?" Hermione asked.

"No. To mark you I have to have fangs, not human teeth and they don't grow in unless I'm shagging someone and the wolf feels the urge."

"I just grew claws," Hermione whimpered, confused by what was happening to her.

"I saw," he murmured back to her, his hand rubbing soft circles against her back comfortingly in a way that made her feel sleepy.

"Why did I grow claws?"

"Because my wolf is always awake," Malfoy told her, "And their using my DNA in your injections. You're going to be more than a little lupine by the time they're through."

"Does that mean I'll be a werewolf too?"

"No," Malfoy murmured.

"Then why did I grow claws?"

"Because I bit you. Since the wolf is awake and responding to the lupine changes happening inside you, it's drawing more wolfish qualities out of you. When I mark you, you'll probably grow fangs and mark me back. I suspect that's why you grew claws."

"But I'm not a werewolf. I've never felt the need to bite anyone."

"Not yet you haven't…. They're going to get worse, Granger. These reactions of yours. You were so out of control this time because I actually bit you, but the injections are going to sting as well."

"The first one stung," Hermione told him, "But not like this did…. I destroyed the carpet."

"Good thing you're moving soon, eh?" He said and Hermione could hear the mild amusement in his voice.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked suspiciously, sitting up slowly as the pain subsided, leaving nothing but some dried blood crusted on the end of her fingers and some gross looking claws on her floor.

She was sitting in his lap, resting against his chest and had even had her head tucked beneath his chin while he held her.

"Because I know how much it hurts to partially transform like that…. The full transformation is like that only about a thousand times worse. That feeling you had like you were going to explode out of your skin, imagine that feeling as you actually do explode out of your skin even as your bones crack and tendons tear and muscles snap. Then they rearrange into the shape of a wolf body. The worst part is the fur."

"The fur?" Hermione asked, intrigued to hear him actually talking about his condition, "Wouldn't the snapping and tearing and breaking of bones and muscles be worse."

"You'd think so, but as much as it burns and aches and is utter agony, it dulls eventually. The fur is awful. Have you ever shaved your legs?"

"Of course," Hermione said, a little affronted by the question.

"Then you know the feeling just after you have when a cool breeze hits your skin and makes it sting and itch and burn as the freshly shaved hair pushes out of the skin. Growing fur is like that only worse because you can feel every follicle tearing and expanding and rasping as the fur grows out. It itches like you wouldn't believe and after the full transformation, scratching is agony, but so is not scratching the itch. It's torture."

"Isn't there anything you can take to make it less painful?" Hermione asked, even though she knew there wasn't.

"Adding anything to the Wolfsbane potion to make the transformation less painful negates the effect of the potion, so it can be less painful, but you lose your mind and go rabid," Malfoy explained quietly.

Hermione thought about that for a little while, wondering if there would be anything that could be brewed, something separate from the Wolfsbane potion that could be taken during the day of the full moon to make it less painful.

"Why did I see you take the potion yesterday?" Hermione asked him quietly, "I thought you only needed to take it in the week preceding the full moon."

"Normally that would be true, but because the wolf is awake, father and I have to take it every day. Regular werewolves have their wolf wake up in the days leading up to the full moon, which is why they get so grumpy and snappy. The days after, when they're tired and cranky, the wolf is resisting going back to sleep. My wolf is always awake, and so I have to take the potion every day."

"What happens if you don't?" Hermione asked.

"Pray that you never find out Granger," Malfoy said quietly, looking into her eyes seriously.

"Is it like what just happened to me?"

"Worse," Malfoy told her, "Without taking it every day, after about a week, I transform – full moon or not – but not all the way. I don't become the wolf completely. I get stuck halfway between. Part beast, part man. Like something out of a nightmare or a muggle horror film."

"Which parts are beast and which parts man?" Hermione asked, wondering if he would actually tell her.

"Everything gets to halfway wolf, Granger. My face buckles outwards like the muzzle of a wolf, but doesn't shrink down into their long snout. I grow fur everywhere but my belly. I grow a tail and paws, my legs buckle into the hind legs of a wolf, but I still walk upright like a man. My hands are more like bear paws than wolf paws when I change like that."

"That sounds awful," Hermione whispered, "Does it hurt half as much?"

"Twice as much," Malfoy told her dully, "Because during the entire transformation my body fights to take one solid form rather than half of two. So it hurts even more and doesn't stop until I change back."

"How do you undo it? What if you stopped taking it for more than a week and changed like that, how do you change back?" Hermione asked, her mind scientifically analysing the information.

"I stay that way until the full moon, then I finally change completely to wolf and back to a man when the sun rises. If I skip the potion too often after that I get stuck that way until the following full moon."

"Can I ask you something?" Hermione asked him seriously, turning and lifting herself off his lap, noticing that her fingers felt tender and sore.

"Would having me say no actually stop you?" Malfoy asked, smirking crookedly at her.

"Yes. It would," Hermione replied.

"What do you want to know?" he asked, sighing as he leant back against the wall beside her drawers.

"If there was something I could give you to make the transformation hurt less, would you take it?"

"Would taking it make me lose my mind during the full moon?" Malfoy countered.

"Maybe. We'd have to experiment with it to find out. Would you be willing to do that if there was something that would let you keep your mind and transform pain-free or at least less painfully?"

"I suppose…." Malfoy told her seriously, "What did you have in mind?"

"What have you tried?"

"Not much, to be honest. I don't like being locked in the dungeons at the Manor, which is where I have to go to experiment with anything in case I go rabid and try to kill mother or the elves or get out of the Manor and go on a slaughter of any humans in the area."

"Hermione are you ok?" Ginny called through the door, making Hermione jump. Malfoy didn't flinch, making Hermione suspect that he'd known the girl was right outside the door.

"I'm alright Ginny," Hermione called back to her, glancing over her shoulder and away from Malfoy, who was watching her wearing an expression that was a mixture of concern, intrigue, annoyance and his ever present sneering smirk.

"Can I come in?" the red-head outside the door called, and Hermione could hear how concerned the girl sounded.

"Yeah, sure," Hermione replied, noticing suddenly that she was sitting on her bedroom floor between Malfoy's bent up knees, staring into his face.

Ginny opened the door quickly and came in.

"Are you alright Hermione?" Ginny asked, "What happened to you?"

"Just a reaction to the werewolf genetics being forced into my system," Hermione replied quietly even as Ginny hurried over.

"You need to tell the healers about this at your appointment tonight Hermione," Ginny insisted, "They can't keep giving you the DNA in your injection or you're going to be in pain every full moon and possibly all the time."

"She's probably right," Malfoy cut in, "If they keep giving it to you via the injection it's just going to make things worse, at least until I mark you and seeing as how you're insisting that won't be happening until next Friday or later you're going to be in for several more days of pain between now and then."

"But it doesn't hurt anymore," Hermione said, even as she brushed her fingers over the swollen skin on her neck where Malfoy had bitten her, feeling that it was raised and that the bite-mark had scabbed over, leaving flaky dried blood on her collarbone and neck.

"No, but when they give you the injection tonight it's going to sting some more. The longer you prolong it before I mark you while you assimilate the DNA the worse it's going to get," Malfoy told her bluntly.

"I'll be fine," Hermione said, looking down at her hands.

"Hermione, what are those?" Ginny asked, sounding horrified.

Hemrione glanced over at her to find her pointing to the shredded and blood-stained carpet and the talons that had formed on her fingers and then torn off.

"They're claws Ginny. I grew claws and then they tore off while I shredded the carpet" Hermione told her friend seriously, noticing the way Ginny paled a little at the information, "It's because of the fact that Malfoy's wolf is always awake. It causes the lupine traits triggered in me to be more intense and more lupine."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Hermione told her, smiling reassuringly and choosing not to mention the fact that her fingers were tingling uncomfortably.

Ginny looked like she didn't really believe that, but she didn't say anything else about it, choosing to change the subject instead.

"Are we still going to Harry and Ron's place for breakfast?" she asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered, "We need to make sure they're not being complete idiots about this whole thing."

Malfoy had begun to growl very softly again at the idea of Hermione going anywhere with her ex-boyfriend but Hermione decided to ignore him.

"Ok. Well, I'm going to go and start on my packing while you and Malfoy sort out your issues. And later you're going to tell me about this business with the dirty letters," Ginny said, grinning deviously at Hermione before walking out of the room and pulling the bedroom door closed behind her, trapping her in the room with Malfoy.

"You're going to breakfast?" he asked without preamble and when Hermione met his gaze she could see a jealous gleam in his eyes.

"Yes. Harry and Ron share a flat a few blocks from here. Ginny suggested we make sure that both of them realise they're actually going to have to move out and into real houses with their new wives," Hermione explained, "I can just imagine the fit Pansy would pitch if Ron suggested she move into the flat with him. That place is tiny."

He didn't say anything else, but his jaw had begun to tick and Hermione suspected his teeth were clenched together.

"You still haven't told me why you're here, you know," she pointed out eventually, after she'd picked up the sticky mess of the claws that were tangled in her carpet, not really sure what to do with them but not wanting to just throw them away in case they fell into the wrong hands.

She waved her wand at the carpet before realising that she still hadn't managed to do up her jeans yet. His shirt still hung open too, something she was incapable of pretending not to stare at.

"Yes I did, wifey. You tormented me with those letters and wouldn't let me show up last night. So I'm here now."

"You have trouble with understanding the word 'no', don't you?" Hermione asked him, though not unkindly.

"Only when I know you don't actually mean 'no'," Malfoy grinned at her, "It's one thing to be saying no, but even as you say it your heart races whenever I come close and you positively reek of desire. Most of the time it's a breathy, half-hearted no too, because you're still wrestling with your moral issues over not wanting to be attracted to me when you can't help it."

"I told you I'm making you wait until next Friday and I meant it. It's already Saturday, after all. So it's really only six more nights."

"Six more nights you'll spend writing me dirty letters or saying provocative things," he grumbled.

"'Hello' is not a provocative word Malfoy" Hermione grinned.

"You were going to kiss me before the Weaslette interrupted," he told her, "I know you wanted to kiss me. Why are you depriving both of us this way?"

"Maybe I want to make our wedding day special," Hermione told him tartly.

"How could it not be special?" he asked, "You'll be marrying _me._"

"It's so nice to know your arrogance hasn't been diminished over the years," Hermione rolled her eyes at him, getting to her feet and buttoning her jeans before she went over and dug around in her potions kit for some kind of container to store the claws she still clutched.

She groaned when she suddenly realised as she stood straight once more that he'd moved up right behind her again, his arms going around her once more, hands diving beneath the hem of her shirt as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him.

"Malfoy," she warned, hating herself for how husky her voice sounded.

"You should pack your things and move them to my house," he told her, making her tremble when he repeatedly ran his tongue over the spot where he'd bitten her earlier. Hermione had no control over her reaction, quivering in his arms with each swipe of his tongue. The fact that he'd decided his hands would provide far better support than her bra wasn't helping matters.

She knew she should scold him, but the feel of his cool hands against the sensitive globes rendered her speechless.

"This is all a plot to lure me into your bedroom, isn't it?" Hermione asked, breathless as he proceeded to pick up right where he'd left off when Ginny had interrupted them, kissing his way along her jaw towards her mouth.

"Not specifically. Though that would provide convenient access to my bed. But your bed's nice too. We should put it to use," he murmured into her ear, voice gravelly and husky with need, making her tremble even more.

Hermione hated how hard it was to resist him and she dreaded being given another injection that evening that would only seek to make it even harder to resist him and control herself. She hated the fact that she didn't want to tell him to stop, and that the idea of letting him lead her over to her bed and tug her down onto it with him made her whole body shudder needily. She felt like every nerve ending was on fire, only in a good way. A way that made her want to rub herself up against him.

"We can't," Hermione whispered breathlessly.

"Why not?" Malfoy asked her, his lips tormenting her as he placed kiss after kiss right on the corner of her mouth, driving her wild with how much she wanted to turn her head and snog him senseless.

"They're giving us fertility treatments and made it so that all forms of contraception don't work. I'm not having a shot-gun wedding," Hermione told him, hating herself for the fact that she just involuntarily arched her back, pressing her breasts into his hands more fully.

"You're not helping deter me" he told her, his grip on her tightening possessively.

"Which I would do how, exactly?" Hermione asked him.

"By not smelling so fantastic," he whispered, "And not arching into my touch like that. And by not mentioning the idea of you being pregnant."

"Shouldn't that be killing the mood for you? The idea of you knocking me up certainly kills it for me," Hermione told him seriously before biting her lip at the way he gently pinched both her nipples.

"You'd think so," he murmured, fingers toying with her taut nipples in a way that made her whimper pathetically, "But it's making it worse. Merlin, what did they put in those damn injections?"

He tore himself away from her with a growl and Hermione turned to see him backpedalling across the room, starting at his hands in horror.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Disturbed by the fact that the mental image of you pregnant with my kids is turning me on," he admitted, pulling a face that was a strange combination of disgust, confusion and lust.

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"I don't think it's something in the injections doing that to you Malfoy. Because the idea of me pregnant with your kids makes me feel queasy," Hermione told him, "Maybe it's a lupine thing?"

"We shouldn't' talk about this anymore," he informed her, "Not whilst in your bedroom, which reeks of how fantastic you smell and is interfering with what little control I still have."

"Does that mean you're going to leave? Because I really need to get going," Hermione told him.

"Got to go see Weaselbee?" he growled, looking annoyed again.

"As a matter of fact yes. And stop calling him that."

"Does it really seem wise to provoke the wolf by defending your ex-boyfriend right now?" he asked her mildly, jaw muscles ticking again.

"I call it poking the bear," Hermione told him, grinning wickedly, "And it's kind of fun."

"You secretly like to live dangerously, don't you wifey?" he grinned back, looking intrigued and devious now.

"Sometimes," Hermione admitted, "And stop calling me that!"

She punctuated the demand by flinging a pillow at his head.

"I knew you were lying about changing the sheets," he tormented her when he caught the pillow deftly and Hermione realised she'd thrown the one that still smelled like him at him.

"Would you get out already," Hermione asked him, sighing dramatically for effect.

"What am I supposed to do all day while you pal around with your ex-boyfriend?" he demanded and Hermione's eyes crossed in frustration.

"Whatever you usually did every day before they told you that you've got to marry me," Hermione retorted.

"I can't do that. Not after you wrote me that dirty letter last night. All I can think about is pressing you into that wall there and…."

Hermione darted across the room, snatched the pillow out of his hands and pressed it over his face to muffle the words he was about to say, knowing they would probably steal her free will away and have her falling into bed with him.

"Stop saying things like that," Hermione commanded him, "And go home. Make some room in your closets and whatnot for my stuff."

"So you are going to bring some of your things over tonight after all," Malfoy grinned, pushing the pillow away and snaking an arm around her waist.

"If you go," Hermione told him.

"You should bring it over before our appointment tonight so that we can go straight to dinner afterwards," he told her.

"Are you plotting to see how much time you can con me into spending with you?" Hermione demanded.

"Possibly," Malfoy admitted, "Though it's not on purpose. The intense need to touch you that resulted from the injection the other day may have dimmed so that I haven't _got_ to, but it's still making me want to. Which is impossible if you're not spending time with me."

"This is going to be the longest week in history," Hermione groaned, not even thinking about it as she dropped her head forwards in defeat until her forehead rested against his still bare chest.

Her senses went wild as she came into such close contact with the lemon and caramel scent of him and Hermione was uncomfortably aware of the way she temporarily lost control of herself as she snuggled her cheek against him the way a cat would. She hated herself for the fact that she didn't seem able to control herself at all even as she nuzzled against his smooth warm skin, her hands coming up and sliding beneath the hem of his still open shirt, fingers pressing insistently against him. Vaguely she was aware of the feel of the many scars criss-crossing his back beneath her hands, but mostly Hermione was caught up in the feel of his skin gliding against hers and in the way he smelled good enough to eat.

"Having fun there?" Malfoy asked, sounding wickedly amused by her behaviour.

In response, Hermione whimpered in defeat. Malfoy chuckled softly though not unkindly, and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat when he burrowed his hands up the back of her shirt, thumbs kneading into the little dimples at her lower back in a way that made her groan with pleasure.

"And you're wrong. As long as this week will seem, the following two will be even longer. You'll be stuck with me for two full weeks with no interaction with anyone else except Healer Underwood when she confirms that I've shagged you until you're walking bowlegged and can't sit comfortably for days."

"Stop it," Hermione whimpered at him fighting to control herself and failing miserably, her body burning for him in a way that made her throb needily.

"I knew you were lying about wanting me," he chuckled smugly, his fingers still kneading against her lower back, effectively grinding her pelvis against his.

"You're supposed to be leaving," Hermione told him sternly, getting a grip on herself and pulling away from him, ignoring the way her body tingled with the need to touch him some more.

"Fine, I'm going," Malfoy said, looking entirely too smug for Hermione's mind, even as he smirked at her triumphantly, clearly enjoying her reactions to the fact that the hormones were messing with her ability to resist him.

"But I'm coming back for you wifey. And when I do..."

He bounced one eyebrow at her, not finishing the sentence in favour of letting the threat of all the things she wanted him to do to her and he wanted to do to her hang in the air between them, palpable with desire and promise.

He grinned toothily before he Disapparated and Hermione pressed her pillow over her face on her scream of frustration.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Hermione and Ginny arrived at Harry and Ron's flat at a little after ten in the morning and Hermione sighed when she saw the state of the place. It was as though the boys hadn't cleaned up after themselves in days. Not in the sense that they were gross or anything, just that there was a stray dirty sock here and there, shoes and clothes strewn across the floor and draped over the back of couches.

It was a typical bachelor pad.

"They're so lost without us," Ginny said, shaking her head sadly at Hermione before grinning, referring to all the times in the past they'd found the boys flat this way when they'd still been dating the pair.

"You know they'll never get it under control if we don't intervene. It's almost lucky that they're getting married in six days. Imagine if we let them live like this forever," Hermione said, shaking her head too.

"You get started on this mess and I'll deal with the kitchen and get breakfast under way," Ginny offered. Hermione knew what a brave offer that was. Their kitchen was almost always foul because both Harry and Ron had a tendency to cook midnight feasts, making a huge mess before returning to bed without cleaning it up.

"Deal. Scream if anything tries to pull you down the drain," Hermione told her.

"You too if there's killer dust bunnies under the couch out here," Ginny chuckled before heading off for the kitchen.

Hermione frowned at the messy room before waving her wand. First she sent the dirty laundry to the washroom and started the machine. Next she began with general cleaning spells, dusting and straightening and tidying everything. It was almost a waste of time since both boys would need to be moving out and into their own houses soon, but Hermione did it anyway, falling back into the old routine she and Ginny had developed when they'd been dating Ron and Harry respectively.

She could smell breakfast cooking in the kitchen and Hermione knew it would be almost done. She sighed as she headed down to the hallway and knocked lightly on Harry's door. When she didn't hear a response, Hermione cracked open the door to find Harry still snoring softly, lying on his back, one arm thrown out haphazardly across the bed, a pillow partially obscuring his face.

He was shirtless, but Hermione was used to the sight after years and years of being such good friends with him.

"Harry?" Hermione called gently to wake him without startling him.

He snuffled and snorted, before rolling onto his side without waking and Hermione chuckled. Slowly, she crept into the room to wake one of her dearest friends.

"Harry, Ginny's got brekkie ready," she told him as she moved around the end of his bed and up towards him, lightly touching his arm when he still didn't respond.

"Harry?" Hermione called again, giving him a slight shake.

"Hermione?" he asked, voice thick and husky with sleep as he blinked open his green eyes. His hand fumbled for his bedside table and his glasses, which Hermione handed to him.

"Good Morning," Hermione grinned at him when he blinked rapidly, staring at her in confusion, still too groggy to notice he was shirtless.

"Hermione?" he asked again looking very confused.

"Ginny's got brekkie ready in the kitchen," Hermione told him again, "You should get dressed and come and have some."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, still too sleepy to recall the fact that when Ginny and Harry as well as Ron and Hermione had still been dating they'd spent most weekend mornings this way.

"Making you and Ron breakfast and dealing with all that mess you two make," Hermione smiled at him, "Come on, get up or it'll go cold. I'm going to wake Ron, but you better be up and dressed when I come back."

She smiled at him again while Harry sat up slowly in bed scratching absently at his bare chest, still not noticing or caring that he was shirtless with her in the room. Quickly, she slipped back out of the room and across the hall to Ron's room.

Hermione didn't bother knocking, knowing from past experience that it wouldn't wake him and that he would still be snoring soundly. She opened the door, almost subconsciously pushing it almost closed again behind her as she walked over to the edge of the bed and smiled down at the sleeping man lying there. Shirtless, the sheet barely reaching his hips, Ron Weasley was sprawled across the bed. He was lying face down on his stomach, both arms cuddled around his pillow, his face snuggled into it as he snored obnoxiously.

It was an old habit when she reached out and ran her hand over his bare shoulders. One that made her chuckle when he reacted the way he always did. He awoke with a start, body tensing, eyes flying open, head lifting off the pillow, his arm jerking out from beneath it with his wand clutched in his hand ready to hex whoever had awoken him.

"'Mione?" he asked, looking entirely perplexed and confused.

"Wake up sleepy-head," Hermione murmured, so easily falling into their old routine, "Ginny's got brekkie ready in the kitchen."

"Fantastic," he murmured, his eyes already closed again, wand tucked back under his pillow, face buried again.

Hermione squeaked in surprise when one of his strong arms reached out and looped around her waist tugging her down on the bed beside him, tucking her into his side.

This too was a long forgotten routine they'd spent every Saturday for more than a year practicing and Hermione found herself snuggling in beside her ex-boyfriend in spite of their mutual break-up three years previously.

"You're going to make us late for breakfast," Hermione told him, smiling softly at the familiar feel of his sleep-warm body beside hers.

When he rolled onto his side and spooned himself around her, his arm still around her waist, the other one sliding under her neck and across the bed, Hermione didn't protest. It felt so familiar that she sighed and let her eyes drift closed for a minute or two. She knew he was still mostly asleep, and it felt good to know he trusted her so much that he could pull her down beside him and snuggle her when he was vulnerable, even after all this time.

"Indulge me," he murmured against her ear like he'd always done when they were together.

"You never change Ronald Weasley," Hermione told him, smiling wistfully as he nuzzled his face into the back of her neck and breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

"Consistency is my middle name," he told her sleepily.

"Don't you want breakfast?" Hermione asked him and she laughed when he lifted his head slowly as he came fully awake.

"Breakfast?" he asked, sounding hopeful, not seeming bothered at all to find her in bed with him.

He rolled back a little until he could pull her onto her back before leaning over her, smiling happily into her face.

"It's in the kitchen waiting for you," Hermione told him, answering his unspoken question about where the food was.

"I've missed this," he murmured to her, his eyes searching her face for several long moments, a soft smile on his own handsome face.

"Me too," Hermione admitted to him, realizing in that moment just how much she had missed the way he could make her feel so wanted when he'd tug her into bed with him while he was still half-asleep like this. The way he'd made being with him when they were together so happy and so easy. She'd missed the way she'd wake up to having him cuddled around her protectively and comfortingly on the nights she'd sleep over. She missed the way he used to slip his hands under her shirt not to tease her or grope her, but simply to trace nonsensical patterns across her tummy because he liked the feel of how soft her skin was.

"I never should've agreed to letting you go," he whispered to her, "We'd have been married by now and this nightmare would be nothing but some crazy thought."

Hermione smiled at him sadly as he cupped her cheek tenderly, peering at her sadly, his eyes telling her just how much he wished things had been different. When he leaned down and pressed a tender, chaste kiss to her lips, Hermione didn't stop him. She knew she should, given that they were both engaged – albeit unwillingly – to other people, but for those few seconds Hermione let herself imagine what her life would've been like if she and Ron had gotten married instead of breaking up.

When he pulled away, Ron looked sad and Hermione felt her eyes begin to fill.

"I still love you 'Mione," he told her softly, "I always hoped we'd find our way back to each other someday."

"I love you too," Hermione whispered, her lip trembling as a tear rolled down her cheek.

The most painful part in the whole thing, other than being forced into a marriage with Malfoy, and knowing that she and Ron might've made it one day if not for this ridiculous law, was that their kiss felt wrong. Hermione could see in his eyes that it felt just as wrong for him as it did for her. And that broke her heart, because even on the day they'd broken up, kissing Ron had always felt so right.

Now it felt wrong.

Not because she was engaged to Malfoy and felt some stupid loyalty to him, but because as Ron's lips brushed against hers, she found herself wishing they were Malfoy's. She could tell from Ron's mournful expression that as much as he wanted it to feel right to kiss her, he was wishing it was Pansy he was kissing instead.

"I don't know if I can do it 'Mione," Ron murmured to her when Hermione felt another tear trickle down her cheek even as he tucked her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder, holding her close, entirely comfortable to be holding her as though the past three years they'd been apart meant nothing.

"Marry Pansy?" Hermione asked.

"That too," Ron grunted, frowning a little at the idea, "…. I don't know if I can stand there calmly and watch you marry Malfoy, 'Mione…. I know you're not my girlfriend anymore, but I still feel protective and possessive of you. The idea of seeing you married to that git makes me want to hex people."

"I know," Hermione whispered, "Every time I see Parkinson I feel this violent urge to threaten her and hurt her to make sure she won't be awful to you."

"I hate her 'Mione," Ron told her, murmuring quietly, looking forlorn, "I hate he so much that the idea of having to marry her turns my stomach… and yet I can't get her out of my head. What is wrong with me?"

"It's the injections," Hermione told him quietly, curling into him until he was lying on his back and she had her head on his chest, her arm across him in a cuddle.

"Yeah but it's one thing for them to make me horny. That'd be fine. But all I can think about is her. I've got you lying right here with me, so beautiful and wonderful and everything I ever wanted in a woman, and I'm thinking about her," Ron said, sounding disgusted with himself.

"I know what you mean," Hermione whispered.

"You're thinking about him?" Ron asked, sounding even sadder now.

Hermione nodded wordlessly.

"How did it come to this 'Mione?" He asked her, "How did this happen to us? Four years ago all I wanted was for you to be my girl for the rest of my life. Now we're both engaged to other people. People we don't love, all because the Ministry has decreed we have to. Why didn't they stick me and you together instead?"

"I wish I knew," Hermione replied, "And I wish there was some way we could change it, but you know we can't. Six days from now, you're going to marry Pansy Parkinson and she'll become Mrs Pansy Weasley. I'll marry Malfoy and become Mrs Hermione Malfoy, and we'll be expected to go off with our new spouses and talk to no one but them for two entire weeks."

"If they keep drugging us with those bloody injections I doubt there'll be much talking being done," Ron said drily, "And it should piss me off. But it doesn't. Why do I want to shag her?"

"The injection they're giving you makes you want to. They put something in it to make sure we wouldn't all go messing with their plans to force us into these partnerships by shagging each other rather than our intended spouse," Hermione told him.

"Those bastards!" Ron growled.

"I know…. If it's any consolation, while you're lying there wanting to shag Pansy, I'm laying here imagining shagging Malfoy."

"That's gross," Ron told her, turning his head a little so he could look into her eyes and let her know he meant it in the nicest possible way and that he understood, even if he didn't like it.

"I know. How are you going to deal with Pansy?" Hermione asked him quietly, enjoying laying there in the familiar bedroom with him holding her. There was something very comforting about it, and Hermione was eternally grateful that they were still such close friends. It felt good to just lie there with Ron's familiar arms cuddling her, not in any way that felt sexual, but in a way that she felt entirely safe and comfortable. She knew that she could tell him absolutely anything and even if he didn't like some of the things she might say, he would never abandon her.

"I have no idea. She's barely said five words to me and I'm fairly certain they were "_you're standing in my light_" when I tried to ask her something at the first doctors appointment," Ron admitted, sounding annoyed, "How am I supposed to marry the swot? I have absolutely nothing to say to her."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed sadly, "Maybe the two of you just need to look past hating each other and see if you can't hold a cordial conversation for a few minutes. Right now you're probably pre-emptively thinking she's going to act like a shrew and so making it all the more awkward between the two of you."

"Did you see her yesterday?" Ron asked incredulously, "Of course I think she's going to act like a shrew. She's positively furious about having to marry me and entirely offended by who I am, what I look like and who my family is."

"That's because she's judging you by the outdated information she has from when we were all at Hogwarts. She probably thinks you're dirt poor and that she's going to have to move into some hovel with you because all she has to go on are the nasty things the Slytherins used to say about you at school," Hermione told him.

"I kind of want to make her, just to see her reaction," Ron admitted.

"Well, you shouldn't. Have you thought about where you're going to live with her?" Hermione asked him.

"What's wrong with here?" Ron asked, looking around his room fondly.

"It's a tiny two-bedroom flat in the middle of London. You're expected to have at least four children with her," Hermione told him seriously.

"I know. Me and Harry were talking about it last night. Figured we'd go house hunting today and see if we can't both get something decent. I'm pretty sure Parkinson and that Tracy Davis that Harry has to marry are friends. We thought it might make things easier on us if we got houses nearby one another."

"What area were you thinking?" Hermione asked him, smiling now to know they had actually thought of needing to move out.

"Harry mentioned something about a place called Crewkerne. It's about halfway between the Burrow and Wiltshire. That way we can be close to you and to Mum and Dad," Ron told her, smiling back.

Hermione felt her heart swell with happiness to know that they were so concerned about her that they would even consider living somewhere close by to where she lived.

"Really?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"'Course," Ron grunted, his ears turning red at her delighted expression even though he smiled, "Couldn't let you be stuck with that git and have no one close by…. You want to come with us today to see if we can't pick out something decent? You know if me and Harry go by ourselves we'll just take whatever there is."

"I'd love to," Hermione announced, positively delighted by the idea, "But if we're doing that we need to get a move on, Ginny and I are both packing today, and I've got to move some of my stuff to Malfoy Manor. And we've got those injections tonight, followed by me needing to attend some stuffy dinner with the Malfoy's."

"How are you doing with that anyway 'Mione? Putting up with Malfoy?" Ron asked her, making no move to let her go and get up just yet.

"He's insufferable," Hermione told her friend, "And the injections are really messing with the werewolf curse, which in Malfoy was already outside the norm."

"He hasn't been a git to you has he? I'll hex him if he has," Ron said immediately.

"No, he hasn't been a git," Hermione admitted, "Which is a little strange. I mean, he's insufferably arrogant and irritating, and thanks to the injections and his curse he's constantly getting in my personal space. But other than that he's been surprisingly tolerable, though he delights in making me uncomfortable…"

"What did he do?" Ron asked, looking like he wanted to hex Malfoy anyway.

"Mostly he says things that make me blush. You saw him yesterday at Diagon Alley. He just enjoys saying things that make me uncomfortable thanks to these stupid injections."

"So he's putting the moves on you basically?" Ron asked, looking annoyed now.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "And he can't keep his hands to himself…. But he's been surprisingly decent, all things considered. After all, he seems to be mostly tolerating me. And he hasn't said anything cruel or awful to me. Mostly he just provokes me into tiffs with him and says things to make me blush."

"Want me to hex him?" Ron offered hopefully.

Hermione laughed, "You'd probably get sick or hurt if you tried, so no. But if I ever have need of having him hexed I'll let you know."

Ron chuckled.

"Are you going to be ok moving into that awful place? With them?" he asked her seriously, clearly concerned for her wellbeing.

"I think so. Malfoy told me the drawing room where I was tortured is a part of his father's wing of the Manor, and so I'd never have to set foot anywhere near it. He's giving me plenty of space for all my things and didn't even complain all that much about Crooks. Narcissa was surprisingly friendly yesterday too. I mean, she threatened me about making sure I don't make Malfoy miserable, but I got the feeling that she wants to make this as painless as possible for everyone and rather than being hostile and awful like they have in the past, they're trying to be polite. She told me she hoped we'd be able to discuss things openly, since we'd have to put up with Draco and Lucius both being werewolves, and would likely wind up pregnant at the same times…"

"Does that bother you?" Ron asked, looking at her strangely, "You'll be knocked up by Malfoy, of all people, and at the same time as you're growing her grandchild, Narcissa could very well be giving Malfoy siblings."

"It's entirely disturbing, but as she pointed out the other day she's only forty-seven. That's relatively young in wizarding years, so she's not really too old to be having more children. And if Mr Malfoy acts around her anything like Draco does to me then this disabled contraception deal the Ministry has implemented would result in them having more kids anyway. I don't really fancy the idea that Draco's siblings could very well be the same age or younger than their nieces or nephews, but there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, I could try timing the shagging to my cycle, but that's not going to be very effective with all these fertility treatments happening," Hermione explained.

"I'm kind of glad Mum and Dad have already had the seven of us, so they're not obligated to have anymore," Ron said.

"Well, there is still a possibility you could wind up with new siblings Ron. The no contraception thing might mean that you're mum will get pregnant again," Hermione pointed out.

"We're not going to discuss that possibility," Ron said, turning a faint shade of green at the thought of his parents having sex.

"How about the fact that you're going to have to get Pansy pregnant?" Hermione asked.

"I don't want to think about it. I'm too young for kids. This whole idea is bollocks. And can you imagine what an awful mother she'll be? Did you see her throwing that tantrum yesterday?"

"She can't be as bad as you think Ron," Hermione said gently, "And you are going to have to shag her and get her pregnant."

"The shagging part's fine. These injections are messing with me so that in that task at least, there'll be no issue. But Merlin, I don't want to get her pregnant."

"You'll already be married to her," Hermione pointed out, "Maybe having kids will mean you don't have to deal with her as often because she'll be busy chasing them all day. Does she work?"

"I've got no idea," Ron shrugged, "I doubt it. But if knocking her up will keep her out of my hair then I'll have a bloody army of kids."

"Oh Ron," Hermione giggled, seeing his determined expression, "You always make me laugh, no matter how awful a situation might be."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin inside her closet where she was boxing up some of her books when the sharp crack of Apparation sounded from within her bedroom. She'd spent most of the day with Ginny, Harry and Ron searching for houses for Harry and Ron to move into, having finally found something suitable for both boys.

Hermione was actually fairly proud of both of them. They'd managed to find houses on the same street in a sleepy little town called Crewkerne in Somerset, just a few blocks down from one another. Ron had purchased a six bedroom Jacobean Period townhouse with a sprawling garden.

As soon as she'd seen the place, Hermione had fallen in love with it. It was just the right combination of down to earth homey comforts that so made the Burrow wonderful, and the more sophisticated elegance that Pansy would no doubt be used to. The rooms were all spacious and the garden was huge. It was likely something out of a fantasy as far as Hermione was concerned and she knew that part of the reason Ron had bought it was because she'd so admired it and he liked to make her happy.

Harry had chosen a five bedroom place with a massive back garden that backed onto a field, which he had also purchased. It lacked some of the elegance of the place Ron had bought, but made up for it in homey comforts. Each room was fitted with a hearth fireplace and all of them were spacious.

All in all Hermione thought they both made excellent choices. She knew that the sales woman – a muggle – had been overwhelmed to have just sold more than million pounds worth of property in one morning. Harry and Ron had both begun to move their belongings into their houses, and realised quickly that they would be in need of a lot more furniture now that they weren't going to be living in their cramped little London flat any more. Hermione had made sure to suggest to Ron that he buy a few things and perhaps that he ought to ask Pansy to help choose the rest of the furniture, as well as bringing along anything of her own.

It had been well into the afternoon by the time she and Ginny got back to their flat, and Hermione had been boxing up many of her books and things since then.

"Granger?" Malfoy's voice drawled from inside her bedroom.

"In here," Hermione called, sticking her hand out of her hugely extendable closet and waving it at him so he would know where to find her.

"What are you doing in the closet?... Bloody hell!" he said, coming over to stand in the doorway clearly expecting to find her simply sitting in the bottom of what appeared to be a regular sized wooden closet.

Instead he might as well have walked into a single room bookshop. Hermione grinned at him from within the depths of the closet, annoyed at herself for the fact that her hormones were telling her she was happy to see him.

"How many bloody books do you own?" Malfoy demanded.

"A lot," Hermione said seriously, "And so far, they're being uncooperative fitting into this box."

"Do you really need all of them?" He asked, "The Manor has an extensive library you know, I'd say most of these tomes will be double ups of anything already in the library."

"I'm not getting rid of them. So either you'll find room for them in the library and have double-ups, or I'll set them all up in my room where I can enjoy them at my leisure," Hermione told him seriously, refusing to budge on the matter.

She'd been expecting something like this from him and Hermione wasn't going to have it. It was bad enough that she would be moving into that awful mansion. There was no way she was about to part with any of the things that made up part of who she was, and having an extensive book collection was a part of her. In fact, the idea of even putting them in the library at Malfoy Manor made her uncomfortable. As she'd been packing Hermione had begun to develop a fear that she would get sucked into that huge place and lose herself there. Settling in was of course, necessary, but Hermione felt as though scattering her things throughout such a large dwelling would be like spreading her personality too thin.

"Why do you have that stubborn set of your jaw I got so used to seeing during our days as Prefects?" Malfoy asked her, looking mildly amused by whatever expression she wore.

"I'm uncomfortable with the idea of moving to your house," Hermione admitted to him, figuring that things between them would be a lot easier to deal with if they could be honest with one another. "It's so big and creepy, and I feel like parting with any of my things to move in there will be like scraping away the first layers of who I am. I'm already aware of the fact that your mother intends to try and groom me into being some kind of pinched looking upper class woman, which by the way, I'm not happy about and will not be participating in. I just... don't want to lose who I am over this ridiculous law."

"In other words you've been sitting around all day over-thinking everything and working yourself into a tizzy," Malfoy said, smirking at her. Hermione glared at him.

"It's a valid concern. I'm already being forced into marrying you and into having kids at a younger age than I ever planned on, not to mention moving into that abomination you call a house unwillingly. I won't alter my personality or my interests or anything else just because your mother asks or you grumble."

"Granger, you're panicking over nothing. Bring whatever you want. There's more than enough room in the Manor. Most of the rooms in my wing are only sparsely decorated, so you can put all your stuff wherever you want. I wouldn't recommend trying to put anything too personal in the main house where the Dining room and kitchen and things are, but anything else is entirely up to you."

"So you're not going to object if I try and put framed pictures of my friends and love ones on the bedside table in your bedroom or on the mantle in your room?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"If you try and put pictures of you and Weaselbee about everywhere I'm going to get snarly, but anything else is fine. Though I do object to the idea of you entirely taking over my room. I mean, it's more of a suite bigger than your flat here, but still, as long as you don't go demanding flowery wallpaper or insist on putting anything disgustingly girly like doilies everywhere, then it'll be fine."

Hermione stared at him incredulously.

"Is there something about me that indicates that I'm overly girly and own doilies?" Hermione asked, slightly amused.

"I've got no idea Granger, you're a girl. My mother insists on doilies everywhere. I banned her from decorating my wing of the Manor when I was nine because she tried to put doilies everywhere."

In spite of herself, Hermione giggled at the expression of disgust on his face.

"Well, I only own one doily. It was crocheted by my mother and it lives beneath the picture I keep of them, over there on my bedside table," she pointed, "The only doily I'll be bringing to your house is that one, and if you try and ban it from your room I'll ignore you."

"If you'd tried to bring it without explaining that I'd have complained," Malfoy shrugged at her nonchalantly, "But I'm not about to make you hide or discard something with that kind of sentimental value. Do you need a hand moving all these boxes?"

Hermione felt another layer of her dislike for Malfoy as a person melt away at his words.

"Yes please," She said, rather than commenting on the fact that he was clearly very much changed from the boy she remembered from Hogwarts.

Slowly she got to her feet, pointing to the box she hoped he would carry and watching him bend down and pick it up before picking up a second box of her own.

"You look terrified," Malfoy told her as he walked out of the closet with the intention of apparating them both to Malfoy Manor.

"That's because I am. The last time I was at your house I was tortured and almost killed." Hermione told him. She felt a funny little wiggle in her abdomen when he gave her a genuine sympathetic smile and offered his hand to her, balancing the box of books he carried propped against his hip as though it didn't weigh fifty kilos.

"I promise that this time, if you're tortured it will only be by me when I trick you into bed with me and talk you out of your clothes," he grinned.

"That's so not going to happen," Hermione told him, hesitating a moment longer before reaching slowly for his hand.

She shivered as his large hand wrapped around hers and when he glanced sideways at her, Hermione held her breath, waiting to feel the uncomfortable pull behind her navel. Without any other warning, Malfoy Disapparated them both with a crack and Hermione nearly dropped the box she was clutching when she landed in Malfoy's bedroom.

"Come on, you can put all your stuff through here," Malfoy told her, not letting go of her hand as he gave it a little tug, walking out of the massive bedroom suite and through a little corridor into an almost empty room. There was a comfortable looking suede lounge suite and ebony bookshelves lined the wall. The rest was mostly bare. There were cabinets and things, but like the bookshelves, they appeared to be mostly empty. It was spacious and the walls were a warm shade of cream, the carpet dark and soft beneath her bare feet. Hermione almost blushed when she realised she'd just arrived at Malfoy Manor barefoot like some hobo. The only thing that kept the blood from her cheeks was glancing down and noticing that Malfoy was barefoot too.

"So this is your room," Malfoy said, setting the box he carried down on the floor in front of an empty bookshelf, "You can decorate it however you want and your cat can live in here too if you want, as long as it stays out of my room. If I find that monster getting cat hair on my bed, I'm going to eat it."

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione demanded, looking horrified at the very idea of such a threat.

"I'm a werewolf," he shrugged, as though she needed reminding, "Anyway, the rest is back through there. You can pretty much go anywhere you want in this wing. Do you want to start unpacking now, or bring more boxes over first?"

"More boxes, I suppose," Hermione shrugged, setting her box down beside the one he'd placed.

"Come on then, we'll move all your things, then I'll give you the tour. We need to get to our appointment soon," Malfoy grinned at her and Hermione found herself baffled by how cooperative and easy to deal with he was being. He was even being helpful and polite and it was mildly disturbing.

He offered his hand to her again, waiting for her to take it with the intention of Apparating them both back to her flat and Hermione rolled her eyes when she took it at the way he intertwined his fingers with hers, making it all too obvious that though he was being friendly and helpful, he was clearly still horny as hell. Something he proved when they landed back in her flat and he proceeded to use his grip on her hand to tug her against him, burying his face against her neck.

She jumped in surprise when he recoiled just as suddenly with a fierce and intimidating snarl, his lips pulling back from his too-sharp teeth as he growled, his eyes darkening to lupine gold in seconds.

"You smell like him!" Malfoy snarled and Hermione froze, suddenly remembering that she probably did still smell like Ron from when he'd pulled her into bed with him that morning and cuddled her. Almost guiltily, she brushed her fingers over her lips, wondering if Malfoy would be able to tell from scent alone that Ron had kissed her.

He looked entirely predatory and utterly furious as he glared at her.

"Of course I smell like Ron," Hermione said immediately, hoping to stave off anything drastic like a werewolf mauling, which he looked more than ready to provide, "I've been at his house and spent most of the day with him, Harry and Ginny."

Before she could blink she suddenly found Malfoy very much in her personal space again, this time with his nose buried in her hair above her ear. She knew he'd be able to smell Ron all over her since she'd been cuddled up to her ex-boyfriend and in his bed earlier that day. His breath tickled as he sniffed at her in the same excited state a dog sniffs and Hermione tried not to cringe when she felt his hands encircle her biceps again as he sniffed the side of her neck and her hair, following the scent up her cheek until his nose hovered millimetres in front of her lips.

"Could you not squeeze so hard, please? I'm still bruised there from the other day," Hermione whispered, her whole body tense for the explosion of possessiveness she just knew he was about to unleash on her. Werewolves were notoriously territorial of their spouses and Hermione could imagine that having the wolf constantly awake made that even more difficult to control. They might not be happy about their arrangement, but trivial circumstances would mean little to the wolf inside him. As far as the wolf was concerned Hermione belonged to him.

Malfoy snarled unintelligibly in response, though his hands did loosen slightly.

Hermione held her breath when he continued to sniff her face before he bent his knees and began sniffing at her chest and stomach in a way that kind of disturbed her and kind of turned her on a little bit. Malfoy was snarling more and more as he picked up more of Ron's scent on her body from where he'd hugged her around the waist and pressed her against his side. No doubt if she turned around Malfoy would know Ron had spooned her too.

"You smell like him all over," Malfoy snarled, standing straight again and this time glaring down into her upturned face.

"I know," Hermione sighed, "I had to wake him when we went 'round for breakfast. He has an old habit from when we were dating to pull me into bed with him while he's still mostly asleep."

Malfoy's responding growl made her flinch.

"Don't snarl at me Malfoy. We might be unwillingly engaged to one another, but we're not married yet and we certainly aren't in love or anything else. I understand that you have territorial issues and possessiveness issues to deal with thanks to your curse, but I will not tolerate you throwing a tantrum just because the person I still happen to love, loves me back enough that we are still very close."

Malfoy snarled furiously and Hermione cried out in pain when his hands tightened on her arms. The grip wasn't enough to truly hurt, but the bruises she already bore made the area sensitive.

"And that calls for you bloody well snogging him?" Malfoy demanded, giving her a little shake in his fury and Hermione was ashamed to say that she was a tiny bit frightened by how gravelly and growly his voice was. It was actually getting difficult to understand him and he looked like he wanted to hurt her. A lot. The wolf-yellow of his eyes made her uncomfortable when he was this furious.

"I didn't snog him!" Hermione told him, "He pecked me on the lips for no more than two seconds, and it was practically a goodbye kiss, given everything."

More snarling ensued and Hermione wriggled in his tight hold.

"You may not fancy me, Granger but we're bloody well engaged! You can't go around kissing other blokes. Especially when you're refusing to kiss me. As far as the wolf's concerned, you're mine. If Weasley were here right now I'd have already mauled the idiot," He lectured her, still looking positively livid but somewhat calmer, or at the very least partially in control.

"If you'd even tried you'd probably have fallen to the floor ill," Hermione scolded him, "And you can just get your knickers untwisted because thanks to these bloody injections the entire two seconds he kissed me I wanted it to bloody well be you and he wanted it to be Pansy! So shut off that irritating snarling and let go of my sore arms or I'm going to hurt you Draco Malfoy!"

"You just admitted to wanting to snog me," he told her smugly, suddenly looking far more in control, his eyes flickering back to their usual stormy grey and his grip on her biceps loosening until he barely touched her at all.

Hermione's arms throbbed painfully even as she glared at him.

"You've got to stop doing this," She told him seriously rather than letting him goad her.

The bruises on her arms which had begun to fade to a sickly greenish colour were darkening to a deep purple before her eyes.

"Sorry," he apologised, looking sincere, "But Granger, you can't go around snogging other men or doing anything else with them. It's hard enough to leash the wolf without the added territorial issues. I mean, I get it that you and Weasley have a history and that the only reason we're getting married is this bloody law. But the wolf doesn't. The wolf sees you as his because you smell so bloody fantastic... Did you actually think about snogging me or are you just saying that to calm the monster?"

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably beneath his gaze rather than answering and Malfoy smirked.

"Don't smirk at me like that. You go and kiss Pansy and then talk to me, I'll bet that the entire time it will feel all wrong and weird because you'll be thinking about me and wishing it was me instead," Hermione defended, "And by the way, I'm cranky about it because even when we were furious with each other and broke up, kissing Ron used to always feel right. You've ruined it."

"It wasn't me who ruined it. The ministry is the one forcing you to marry me and to be attracted to me," Malfoy argued with her, "And I'm not about to go and snog Pansy or someone. I already know I want to snog you. You should let me."

Hermione rolled his eyes, her mind boggling at his flippant moods seeing as he was now taunting her and teasing her again rather than furious.

He made to step in closer again as though he intended to try convincing her to snog him, but he stepped back just as quickly, nostrils flaring and lip curling back from his teeth again in a silent snarl.

"You need to wash that scent off you," he told her seriously.

"Why would I do that when it makes such an excellent repellent to keep you from trying to snog me?" Hermione teased gently.

"It's cute that you're trying to tease me," Malfoy told her seriously, making her blush, "But this isn't a joking matter. I need you to shower or I'm likely to lose control of the wolf and hurt you again."

"Really?" Hermione demanded, hoping he was kidding.

"Really," Malfoy replied, looking deadly serious.

"This isn't just some plot to get me naked?" Hermione asked him.

"Granger, if I wanted to get you naked I'd be seducing you right now rather than recoiling to keep from hurting you."

"Oh... Erm... right. Ok." Hermione stammered, "Do you... um...?"

"Want to join you?" he offered hopefully before she could ask if he wanted to wait for her in the living room or needed anything to eat or drink first.

"That's not what I meant," Hermione said.

"You say that, but your heart is racing at the thought," Malfoy smirked at her knowingly.

"Maybe it's racing at the thought of you wanting to hurt me again," Hermione said snidely, pulling out of his grip and stomping over to pick up her bathrobe. She stared at it for a moment before turning to glare at Malfoy, who was a few paces behind her and trying to look innocent.

"What?" he asked her, pursing his lips to hide his smirk.

"Don't look at me like that," Hermione told him, "If I take this you're going to talk me into stripping with you in here, aren't you?"

"Didn't have to talk you into it this morning or yesterday," Malfoy shrugged, grinning at her wickedly.

"You're so not getting another show," Hermione told him, discarding the robe in favour of going to her drawers and digging out some clean knickers and a bra along with an oversized shirt.

"Don't be like that, wifey," Malfoy told her, sounding entirely too smug for his own good, "And why bother trying to hide from me? I've already seen you naked a couple of times now. And I'm going to see everything in the shower."

Hermione stopped dead in the hallway when she realised he was right behind her, clearly intending to follow her into the shower.

"You're not showering with me," Hermione told him, turning to glare up at him.

"But you just asked me to," Malfoy protested.

"No I didn't."

"You didn't say no when I suggested it with such hopefulness," Malfoy countered.

"Are you always going to be this insufferable?" Hermione sighed.

"Worse, probably, since in a little over an hour they're going to drug me into being even hornier than I already am now. You should let me shower with you to help relieve some of the pent up sexual frustration growing between us like an out of control fungus."

Hermione hated him for sounding so reasonable about it, and she hated herself for even considering it. She was definitely not looking forward to being given another injection that would probably rob her of the willpower to say no to him.

"You're not showering with me," Hermione told him stubbornly, "Go occupy yourself until I'm done."

"But I want to occupy myself with you, wifey. Besides, how will you know you've successfully scrubbed that Weasel funk off you without me there to make sure?"

"How can you sound so reasonable about this?" Hermione demanded, her eyes crossing in frustration with him.

"Becoming a werewolf made me an uncomplicated bloke Granger," Malfoy shrugged at her in a way that made her stomach do a backflip, "If I want something, I chase it down until I have it. And I want you. Naked. Under me or against me or even on top of me. I don't care about the where, just the when. Which I would very much like to be now. And I'm going to get you, Granger. You should know resistance is useless."

"You can't keep saying things like that to me," Hermione practically groaned, hating the way his frank response made her want to plaster herself against him and snog him until she forgot all about everything else.

"I knew I was turning you on," he smirked at her triumphantly, "So am I joining you in the shower or not?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer and bit her tongue as she realised she'd been about to say yes and invite him in with her.

"… No" She told him.

"You hesitated," Malfoy grinned at her, clearly taking far too much delight from that fact, "You need to stop resisting me Granger. The more you do, the more you're going to use that brilliant mind of yours to invent ridiculous scenarios, completely over-thinking something that's really simple, and so terrify yourself into believing that I'm going to take one look at you and recoil in disgust. The nervousness will drive you mental and then I'll have to work twice as hard to bring you off because you'll keep talking yourself out of pleasure."

"You're insufferable," Hermione told him, hating him for his use of logic.

"Only because you know I'm right," Malfoy told her with a devious wink, "Go on, it's only you and me here, wifey. It'll be our secret."

Merlin, she hated him for sounding so reasonable. It was entirely unfair in Hermione's opinion that his eyes had turned to that increasingly familiar shade of lupine gold and he was looking at her with all the manipulativeness and adorable pleading of a puppy. Puppy dog eyes from a werewolf were going to be her undoing, Hermione just knew it.

"If I let you in my shower, you won't be able to keep your paws off me," Hermione rationalised, ignoring her rapidly dampening loins, "And then we'll end up shagging in there, and probably be late for our appointment. I'll wind up pregnant to you before we're even married."

"That's just nonsense," Malfoy retorted, "You know you can't get pregnant unless we're bound in holy matrimony. Hence the fact that this Marriage Law was passed in the first place. So you wouldn't get pregnant, you wouldn't be knocked up at the wedding, and you're simply talking yourself out of pleasure because you're nervous. Just like I said you would. It's only going to get worse if you wait until Friday."

Blast him and his logic!

"I think you might be too smart for your own good," Hermione told him, crossing her arms over her chest sternly.

"You just don't like the fact that I'm smart enough to see through the smokescreens you're trying to put up and aren't used to dealing with someone whose intelligence matches your own," Malfoy told her, smirking widely and clearly enjoying himself far too much. Hermione glared at him, biting her lip with indecision, wanting to invite him into the shower with her because the longer the stupid injections were in her system, the more attractive he was becoming and the needier she got.

"If I were to invite you in, would you keep your hands to yourself?" Hermione asked him, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"Maybe?" Hermione demanded, "What kind of response is that?"

"If I say yes, I'd be lying and if I say no, you'll tell me to bugger off," he grinned wickedly "And you might as well just invite me in now, I already know you want to. I can smell how badly you want me, wifey."

Hermione turned crimson when he nodded indicatively towards her pelvis, making her realise his sensitive werewolf nose could pick up the scent of her pooling desire.

"I hate you Draco Malfoy," Hermione told him.

"I'm growing on you, admit it," he replied, clearly unaffected by her words and not believing them for a second.

Hermione spun on her heels and stomped down the hall to the bathroom. She took great delight in shutting the door in his face and locking him outside the bathroom.

"Don't be like that, wifey," he called through the door, chuckling in amusement and Hermione fought the urge to scream in frustration with how much she wanted to strangle him and how much she wanted to open the door and invite him inside with her. Before she could do something so foolish, Hermione stripped naked and hopped into the shower, scrubbing at her skin furiously in the hopes that she might be able to scrub away the tingles of desire lingering all over her.


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"You can't wear that to my house for dinner," Malfoy told her the minute Hermione returned to her bedroom, freshly showered, even as she was trying to dry her hair in neat curls by wrapping them around her wand.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked rather than commenting on his telling her what to do, all the while staring at Malfoy in shock. He was reclining on his stomach on her bed, his head facing the foot of the bed, and had clearly just lifted his face out of her pillow.

"Your pillow smells amazing," he told her, smirking as he leant back down and took a deep breath in through his nose again. Hermione wondered whether she should be disturbed or aroused. Because she was leaning towards aroused.

"Have you been in here the whole time I was in the shower, sniffing my pillow?" she asked him.

"No," he admitted, "I waited outside the door for a little while listening to you humming in the shower and hoping you'd give in to your hormones and invite me in."

Hermione was stunned by his blatant honesty, since the old Malfoy had certainly never been so forthcoming with information about, well, anything.

"I'm surprised you're not digging around in my underwear drawer," Hermione sneered at him, grinning now.

"Everything in your underwear drawer has been washed, so it smells like washing powder, not like you," he told her with a completely straight face, "I'd be more concerned about your dirty laundry basket."

"Oh my gosh! Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment to hear him admitting something like that.

"What?" he asked with a shrug, still reclining on his stomach and looking far too delectable over there on her bed for it to be entirely fair.

"How can you say that?" she demanded, "You went through my underwear drawer?"

"I didn't need to. I can smell from here that they only smell like laundry powder," he informed her.

"Then you went through my laundry basket?"

"No," he said again, "It's in the bathroom and you locked the door. Besides, you and the Weaselette are so close that you throw all your stuff in together and her scent muddies up yours."

"So you're saying that you didn't go through it today, but the night you slept over you did?" Hermione asked him.

"I was going to," he replied truthfully, "But like I said, her scent interferes with yours and is stronger because she's more athletic. And I didn't want that clogging up your smell."

"When did you get this… truthful?" Hermione asked him, "And this hard to embarrass?"

"Why would I be embarrassed, wifey?" he asked, and Hermione noticed the very subtle way he propped himself up a little more in such a way that it made her want to go over and sit down beside him on the bed.

"You're admitting to wanting to sniff my dirty laundry, while reclining on my bed sniffing my pillow. Anyone else caught doing that would be crimson."

"Anyone else not a werewolf who's going to marry you and being deprived of touching you," he countered with a shrug as though that explained his behaviour.

"How am I depriving you of touching me?" Hermione asked him, thinking that she'd had more physical contact with him in the past few days than she'd had with anyone else, perhaps ever. Even when she'd been with Ron, they'd kept the PDA to a minimum and had both been busy a lot.

"You wouldn't let me into the shower with you," he said, giving her a pouty look that made her think of a puppy who's been told he has to sleep in the laundry rather than in the bed, "And you won't let me snog you. You're depriving me, like a torturous vixen."

"Don't look at me like that," Hermione warned him, unable to resist him as she wandered closer to the bed, suddenly very much aware of the fact that she wore only an over-sized t-shirt and her underwear.

"Like what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Like a sodding puppy," Hermione complained, squeaking in surprise when his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her down onto her bed even as he rolled onto his back so that he could pull her down on top of him.

"Can't you resist it when I look at you like this, wifey?" he asked and Hermione felt something inside her squeeze as he pulled her closer until her chest was against his while he looked at her with the most innocent, pleading, utterly adorable expression; his eyes wide and vulnerable with just the right touch of sadness to melt her heart.

"I told you to stop calling me that," Hermione murmured softly, having to bury her face against his neck to keep from looking at his face, else she was going to give in to that expression and snog him.

"You smell divine," he whispered, his arms coming up to wrap around her and hold her against his chest firmly, yet gently. She realised some of her hair must be brushing against his face and neck, because she felt it when he leaned in, sniffing it as though he'd been deprived of that too.

"You too," Hermione whispered before she could stop herself, unable to resist the zesty lemon and caramel scent of his skin, nuzzling her face against him again, the same way she'd done that morning. It was like a form of torture trying to resist him and Hermione wondered idly if it would be so bad if she stopped trying to resist quite so hard. After all, she _was_ going to marry him and they would end up doing positively depraved things to one another come Friday as a result of all the drugs that would be in their systems, compelling them to want each other.

When he didn't make a sound in response, but instead slowly trailed the tips of his fingers down the length of her spine, over the curve of her bottom and down the back of her bare thigh, Hermione decided it would be okay to lower the level of resistance. Just a little bit. She allowed herself to give in to the urge to nuzzle into him again, wondering if she would ever get over the silkiness of his skin. He still had his shirt open and Hermione let her fingers slowly trail over his torso, exploring his body, learning the feel of the slashed claw marks she found on his left collarbone and the way they were even silkier and softer that the rest of his skin.

She wondered if perhaps he sensed that speaking would somehow break the spell, because Draco stayed quite as Hermione tentatively trailed the tip of her nose down the side of his neck and along his clavicle. He seemed to almost hold his breath when she let her fingers slide a little lower, discover the spattering of fine blonde hairs on his chest. She didn't know what it was but there was something about simply being there with him in the silence, lightly touching each other, gently learning each other, that made her think that maybe she could grow to love him one day.

All day long he'd been different to what she recalled of him from their days at Hogwarts and during the war, and it seemed strange to her that is had only been two short days since she'd learned she'd have to marry him. There was enough of the Draco she remembered to make him seem genuine, but also an abundance of maturity and honesty and pleasantness, that Hermione found that he truly was growing on her. She kind of liked his habit of tormenting her playfully, and she was enamoured with the scent of him, wanting to roll around in it until it was forever mingled with her own.

It was an unnerving urge, and Hermione supposed she had the new lupine traits to thank for it, but rather than being disturbed or grossed out, she found herself understanding his need to capture her scent, to enjoy it so shamelessly.

When Hermione let her little finger skim very lightly over his taut nipple, she heard the soft growl that rumbled inside his chest beneath her ear, sounding almost like a purr of contentment and she found a small smile of triumph slipping across her face. It was nice to know that she was clearly affecting him just as much as he'd been affecting her. She trailed her finger over the tight bud again and grinned when he jolted just a little bit beneath her.

"We should go," Hermione murmured a little while later, revelling in the feel of his fingertips trailing up and down her back in long smooth strokes.

"You can't just torment me this way and then expect me to be able to walk out of here," he replied, his voice low and husky with need. Hermione grinned a little, enjoying the fact that she'd finally succeeded in making him as horny as she felt.

"We'll be late, and I still need to get dressed," Hermione told him, pulling out of his grip and getting to her feet, doing her best to ignore the pout on his face.

"You don't play fair, wifey," he complained as Hermione went to her closet where she stripped off her shirt before throwing it at him. She laughed when he caught it and held it to his nose, breathing in deep.

~O~

By the time they got to the hospital they were late. Again. The healers had asked them lots of questions about their time over the past few days and any noticeable changes in behaviour as a result of the injections. Draco ratted Hermione out about her growing claws and tried to insist that she not be given any more injections with werewolf DNA. Not that it had helped. Both of them had looked sympathetic, and had given her some medicine to help with the pain, but told her there was no other option but to continue adding it to her injection.

They also assured both Hermione and Draco that the dosage in his injection had been amended so he wouldn't be so out of control again. Thus far they seemed to have gotten it right.

Of course, as they walked out of the room Hermione felt him take her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"They still didn't get it right," she heard him mutter to her as they were leaving the hospital.

"What do you mean?" she asked, glancing at him. He hadn't lost control or even looked all that bothered by the injection when the Healers has given it to him, but now his eyes were lupine-gold and feasting on the sight of her.

Hermione flushed beneath his hot stare, suddenly self-conscious in her navy cocktail dress. She'd made sure to choose something appropriate to wear to dinner with the Malfoys, choosing the dress for the way it fell to just an inch above her knee and the high neckline. At home, even with Malfoy perving on her for the backless design of it, she'd felt confident, respectable and just a little sexy. The look he was currently giving her, however, made her feel like she belonged on a stage somewhere, dancing with a pole for singles.

Of course, given the injection coursing through her system, it also made a rush of desire consume her and Hermione found it difficult to keep from suggesting they skip dinner in favour of going back to her flat and shagging all night long. It was only the fact that she knew Malfoy would do it that kept her from even jokingly suggesting the very idea.

"I mean," he answered her quietly, "That the only appeal I see in going to dinner is the possibility of putting the dining table to use whilst we test just how sturdy it is."

Hermione bit her lip to contain the whimper that tried to escape her at the idea. Now how was she supposed to get through dinner without jumping him? Knowing it was all induced by the chemicals in her injection didn't stop Hermione from eyeing him in his suit pants and pale blue button up and wondering how upset he'd be if she tore all the buttons off whilst trying to get to his flesh. She'd never wanted anyone so badly in her life and she was sure her rationality was going to be well and truly forgotten come Friday.

_Seven more days_, she reminded herself, resorting to pinching the pressure point in the fleshy part of her hand to keep from throwing herself at him. Seven more days and she would be legally required to consummate her marriage to him.

Just two days had passed and yet she'd never wanted anyone so badly. The thought of actually having to marry him and tie herself to him for the rest of her life didn't sit all that well with Hermione, even with the hormones coursing through her. But the idea of shagging him three ways from Sunday held so much appeal that she was seriously considering the need to stop off at her flat before they went to dinner so she could grab some dry knickers. Hers were damp and getting wetter by the second at the idea of Malfoy wanting her as badly as she wanted him.

"We have to go to dinner," She said tightly, squeezing his hand firmly, "Your parents are expecting us. And I wouldn't put it past your mother to come searching if we don't get there soon."

Draco nodded tightly and she could see the way his jaw was clenched hard on whatever suggestions he had that might keep them from making their dinner appointment.

"We best go then, otherwise we won't be leaving your bedroom for the next week," he told her, his voice low and husky, rough with how badly he wanted her.

As they stepped out of the hospital and onto the street, Draco glanced at her warningly before apparating them to Malfoy Manor.

The sight of the looming Manor was enough to temporarily jolt Hermione out of her lustful state and as they landed at the front gates Draco dropped her hand in order to push them open. Hermione felt her knees begin to knock together.

"Are you coming?" he asked, glancing back at her as he took a few steps up the drive before looking back when he realised she wasn't following.

"I'm not sure I can," Hermione admitted, fear causing her heart to constrict painfully in her chest. She'd been fine earlier inside the Manor in Draco's wing, but there was something about arriving via the front gates, as she had done when she'd been dragged before Bellatrix LeStrange and the Malfoy's that triggered her instinct to flee for her life.

"I'm sorry," He apologised, and Hermione glanced at him in confusion before realising he'd brought them to the gates on purpose, for exactly this reason.

"You…" she began accusingly.

"I had to get you to stop looking at me like that and smelling so damn desirable…. I…. the wolf… I'm not completely in control," he admitted tightly, taking her hands and apparating them inside the Manor, into what looked like a lavish dining room.

"Draco?" the voice of Narcissa Malfoy called, "Is that you?"

"Is dinner ready, Mother?" Draco called back rather than greeting the woman while Hermione fought between the urge to wring his neck for causing her so much emotional distress, and wanting to simply wrap her arms around his neck and hang onto him, anchoring herself to him while he had his way with her anywhere he felt like.

"I thought it might be prudent to have us seated as soon as you arrived," Narcissa Malfoy said, coming around a corner from the next room, her sharp eyes dancing between Draco and Hermione and the way they still clutched at each other's hands needily, "I see that it was a wise decision."

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner, Mrs Malfoy," Hermione ventured bravely as she pulled her hands free of Draco's, despite his efforts to hold her, and clenched her fists to attempt to cease their shaking.

"Well I couldn't have to two of you off gallivanting, now could I?" Narcissa asked and Hermione caught the amused twinkle in the older woman's grey eyes at the way Draco growled very softly and had to stick his hands into his armpits to restrain himself after he tried to make a grab for Hermione. One she deftly dodged despite how badly she wanted his hands all over her.

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't compliment your home," Hermione continued, following after Narcissa when she beckoned both of them through the next room and into a lavish dining room. There was far more light to the house than Hermione recalled from her visit during the war, but the amount of dark magic that had been practised within the walls of the Manor had permanently stained it an ominous-feeling grey. It seemed to linger in the very walls, in spite of the festive shade of green many of the walls bore.

"Yes, well," Narcissa said as she led them towards the lavish laid out dining table and waved her hand to have Draco pull out Hermione's chair while Lucius silently prowled into the room via the far door, tucking his wife's chair beneath her.

"This was a bad idea," Hermione heard him tell his wife as Draco trailed his hand down the bare, smooth skin of Hermione's back and causing her skin to explode with goose-pimples, before tucking her chair in underneath her.

"It was a positively horrible idea," Draco agreed with his father, voice tight and gravelly as though the wolf was railing hard for release. The lupine gold shone brightly from the eyes of both werewolves and Hermione felt certain that she knew the cause.

Even among regular werewolves who didn't have to deal with having the wolf always awake, tensions ran high if the mate of those werewolves was in the same vicinity as others lycanthropes. The beast within perceived the other wolf to be a threat to that mate and would protect them at any cost. To have Draco's wolf so intent of the idea of Hermione belonging to him, and to suddenly be faced with the idea of having to walk around the far end of the table and sit opposite Hermione while Narcissa and Lucius sat at the head of the table, perched at each end, couldn't be easy for Draco.

It seemed Lucius was suffering a similar issue with the idea of having Draco sitting closer to his mother than Lucius was to his wife.

"Not to interrupt this avid staring competition," Hermione began when the silence stretched on for several long minutes, "But I'm curious about how this arrangement would usually take place, were I not here?"

Both werewolves had begun to snarl very softly, lips curling away from rapidly sharpening teeth. Narcissa didn't seem bothered by the display between her husband and her son as they snarled at one another and instead fixed her attention on Hermione.

"Whatever do you mean?" Narcissa inquired, snapping her fingers and causing several house elves to come scurrying into the room ferrying trays of food and wine.

"Well, I take it this display is a result of both idiots… I mean, wolves, feeling threatened about their perceived mates being taken by the other. So I wondered how it usually work. Is there often this display of dominance when it is only you, Draco and Lucius in the house?" Hermione clarified, earning herself a smirk from Narcissa for her slip of the tongue that caused both werewolves to snarl at her in annoyance.

"Not without the full moon being upon us. Ordinarily they are able to control themselves, Lucius realising that I am of course, forever his, and knowing he need not be threatened by his own son for my affection. Similarly, as Draco's mother there is little confusion over the matter. Their wolves recognise that I am mate to Lucius and mother to Draco and that's all there is to it. I suspect however that the injections they've given Draco which are causing the scent of desire to roll off him and off you, are rankling Lucius's wolf," Narcissa explained before holding her hand out towards her husband, brushing her fingers softly over his forearm as he snarled across the table at his son.

Hermione watched in fascination as Lucius's attention diverted from his son to his wife. She wondered if others in her position might've been unnerved and a little nauseated at the look of unadulterated, purely possessive desire the man gave Narcissa. Hermione didn't feel ill at the thought, in fact she thought it was rather sweet that after all the couple had endured during the war they were still so obviously in love with one another.

She also found herself thinking once again that she had been purposely paired with Draco for these arranged marriages for exactly the reason that she wasn't concerned by the behaviour both men were exhibiting while they dealt with the wolves that shared their souls. Others in her place might well have been trembling in fear and horror at the very idea of being in the same room as a pair of werewolves, let alone intrigued by their behaviour. Rolling her eyes at her own musings that her career had clearly made her the perfect match for Draco, Hermione chose to follow Narcissa's lead and distract Draco from the predatory glare he was still levelling in his father's direction.

Reaching for his hand, Hermione took it inside her own, guiding it to the wound he'd left on her shoulder when he'd bitten her that very morning in her bedroom, quivering when his finger found the mark.

The touch was simple and yet Hermione felt the reaction to her idea as though someone had sucked all the tension out of the room. Draco's fingers stroked the mark he'd left upon her skin with his teeth gently, almost lovingly, and the wolf quieted his snarls. When she tilted her head back to meet his gaze he wore a soft smile on his face that looked entirely unfamiliar and yet welcome. If Hermione had to guess she would say it was an expression of momentary contentment. His eyes still glowed lupine-gold, but he no longer snarled or bared his fangs. Instead he simply held her gaze.

Hermione couldn't quiet tell if she was looking at the wolf or the man, but the flickering of emotions in his eyes fascinated her. She caught glimpses of the wolf-s acceptance and perhaps even happiness at her actions and at the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. She also caught the hint of confusion and bafflement that must belong entirely to Draco to know that rather than any other reaction, she had complete accepted the wolf's issues and worked to accommodate them. She suspected he was conflicted over the idea that had their situation been reversed he would not have been so kind or understanding of her needs.

"We should eat," Hermione said softly several long minutes later. Dragging her gaze away from Draco was a monumental task, but Hermione managed it. When she looked at Narcissa and Lucius, she felt a small smile tug at her lips. Lucius's hand cupped Narcissa cheek tenderly and he looked down at her adoringly.

"You're right, Miss Granger," Narcissa agreed, dragging her eyes away from her husband. Hermione noted the way the woman's sharp eyes fell to the way Draco's fingers still stroked the blemish on Hermione's shoulder where he'd marked her and she saw the way Narcissa's brow crinkled in confusion and concern.

"Please join us at the table Lucius?" Narcissa said to her husband before turning to her son "Draco?"

Both men eyed each other once again, but there seemed to be less tension and more understanding this time. As though their wolves had taken note of whose mate belonged to whom and they silently agreed they would not be challenging one another over the matter.

Draco's hand trailed down Hermione's bare back as he moved away from her to round the table and sit opposite her. She could tell that it cost him no small amount of self-control to do so, especially when her body responded to his touch like a fire responds to stoking. Hungrily.

As everyone took their seats and began passing around food, Hermione noted that there was still an undercurrent of tension at the table.

"Good Evening, Miss Granger," Lucius Malfoy said finally when his plate was full.

"Good Evening, Mr Malfoy," Hermione replied politely as she nibbled at her mashed potatoes.

Strained silence followed the greeting and Hermione found herself looking across the table at Draco, wondering what was going on. After all, Narcissa had been talkative enough when they'd been shopping and thanks to the injections Draco had been talking to her whenever he felt like it.

"Have you begun moving your belongings here, Hermione?" Narcissa asked finally midway through the meal.

"Yes. Draco was helping me bring some of my things over earlier this afternoon," Hermione answered her, smiling at having anyone speak to her since Draco seemed more inclined to stare at her hungrily rather than speaking to her in front of his parents.

"That's good," Narcissa nodded and Hermione wondered if the woman was being genuine or simply being polite. It was hard to tell with the Malfoys.

"What is it you do at the Ministry?" Lucius asked suddenly, his eyes fixed on her in a way that made Hermione a little bit uncomfortable.

"I work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatues office," Hermione told him, "I'm responsible for the passing of the recent bill calling for the de-registry of all werewolves at the Ministry excluding those who have presented violence in the past, such a Fenrir Greyback and a few others with criminal records that include the attack on humans whilst under the influence of the moon."

"I see," he said and Hermione could tell from the way he said it that he thought she was nothing but some little insignificant ministry drone who dealt with petty complaints. That he thought she was of little importance.

"It's rather fascinating actually. I spend most of my time meeting with delegates from different species regarding political and criminal matters. I also spend a large amount of my time before the Wizengamot arguing cases such as the Fair and Equal Rights for House Elves Act, and I'm currently in the process of implementing a system that allows those suffering vampirism to come to designated blood banks within the Ministry for their nourishment, rather than attacking innocent wizards and muggles for their sustenance."

"Essentially you work in the law department, focusing specifically on cases involving magical creatures?" Draco summarised questioningly from across the table and Hermione was only too happy to turn her attention to him rather than continuing to hold Lucius' gaze.

"Essentially," Hermione said, "Actually I've been meaning to ask you how you come by your Wolfsbane Potion?"

"We purchase it from a renowned brewer in London," Narcissa told her when Draco seemed too focused on staring at Hermione's mouth to answer the question.

"I see. And I suppose you pay rather dearly for it too?" Hermione questioned the woman.

"We do indeed," Narcissa said, her lips pursed as though that fact annoyed her.

"Interesting. I've been meeting with the inventor in recent months, discussing the possibility of seeing the potion distributed freely to those who need it. The Ministry is being difficult about it, but I'm pushing the law through that states that much like any other aspect of health care, the potion should be made available to those who require it. It ought to be classified as necessary medication. Of course the Ministry is arguing that the potion is a luxury, not a necessity. But I'll get through to them. I always do."

"You enjoy your career, don't you?" Draco asked her, smiling in a way that seemed almost fond.

"I really do. Not just because of the good I'm achieving for those who can't fight for themselves, but also because I kind of like screwing the Ministry out of money and making sure that the officials in charge know they can't get away with the type of abuse of human and Creature rights that we've seen in the past," Hermione nodded enthusiastically, always happy to talk about her job.

"I'm beginning to see why they paired the two of you, and I suspect in this case it had far less to do with supposed projections of prolific matches and far more to do with your knowledge and acceptance of what we are," Narcissa said grimly.

"I didn't doubt it," Hermione agreed, "They also wanted to get back at me for getting the De-Registry validated. The Wizengamot fought me hard on that particular venture, but I won in the end when I gave them enough evidence to show that there was no cause for all werewolves to be registered and to be forced to notify their employers of their condition. It was dehumanizing and usually meant most of them couldn't hold down a job. I've been drafting a legislature that combines the notion of providing free Wolfsbane Potion with a Fair Work Rights act that doesn't allow for employers to dismiss werewolves for having the full moon days off, and doesn't allow the discrimination against werewolves for their condition."

"With what result in mind?" Lucius asked and Hermione smirked a little, realising that her keen interest in the condition he and Draco shared meant he was warming to her knowledge and her plans on the matter.

"I mean to have the potion made available, thereby eliminating the monstrous overtones that so many people fear by making sure you all keep your minds every full moon. With that in place it makes it very hard for employers to argue that they can't have unstable monster working for them. The act will allow for the days surround the full moon to be prohibited work days for werewolves, and will ensure that an employer can't termination employment or refuse to hire a werewolf simply because of the condition." Hermione explained, pleased to share her ideas.

"You mean to see lycanthropy classed as a medical condition rather than a curse," Draco accused, "To argue that a person wouldn't be refused employment for being an amputee or having a disease if they could still do the job require of them."

"I do," Hermione nodded, "Everything I've seen indicates that Lycanthropy is merely a condition. A manageable one that is only really a problem a few days a month. I mean, a woman wouldn't be denied work simply for menstruating every month and since most of the symptoms are the same – grouchiness, moodiness and occasional bouts of irrationality – right up until the actual transformation, I don't see why werewolves should be denied the same employment. I mean, I'm not suggesting that we throw werewolves in a meat-packing plant and just cheer when most of the product gets eaten rather than distributed, but there's no reason that other jobs shouldn't be achievable. Remus did a fine job teaching in our third year. He was the best teacher we had for the subject, in spite of his condition. He simply took the Wolfsbane potion and had the full moon days off and that was that. There was no harm."

"You mean other than when he forgot to take it and attacked you, Potter and Weasley along with Snape and Black?" Draco prodded.

"That was an isolated incident that could have been prevented in Pettigrew hadn't been a traitor, and if Lupin hadn't been in possession of an item that allowed him to see that Harry, Ron and I were on the ground with Sirius and Pettigrew. His concern for our safety outweighed his memory to take his potion. And fatality was avoided anyway, so the point is nulled," Hermione told him.

"He did do a decent job teaching," Draco nodded thoughtfully.

Hermione chose not to comment on the fact that back then he'd been one of the ones to spread the gossip of Remus's condition and one of the ones calling for Remus to be dismissed.

"Don't look at me like that," Draco warned her, catching the smug expression on Hermione face.

"Like what?" Hermione asked innocently, unable to completely hide her smile.

"Like you're thinking about how much I've changed my tune from the intolerant little git I was in third year," Draco grinned, clearly knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"I'm going to put it down to the idea that I knocked some sense into you about insulting magical creatures when I punched you that year," Hermione grinned in return.

"She punched you?" Lucius asked, looking surprised now, glancing at Draco suspiciously.

"He was being a morbid git trying to watch Buckbeak being executed and saying foul things. So I punched him in the face," Hermione supplied the story helpfully.

"Did you have to bring that up?" Draco asked, though he looked amused rather than annoyed.

"You let her punch you and you didn't even tell me?" Lucius demanded, "And what is 'Buckbeak'?"

"The hippogriff that slashed Draco when he insulted it in Hagrid's class," Hermione told him, "Draco more than deserved both attacks and Buckbeak survived anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

"What do you mean the beast survived?" Lucius asked, looking angry now.

"Harry and I saved him the same night we saved Sirius from the Dementors," Hermione shrugged before taking a big bite of her lamb shanks.

"Why is it," Draco asked, eyeing her strangely, "That every time I talk to you, you reveal the fact that you were more of a rule-breaker than I was in school? The more you say, the more questions I have."

Hermione grinned at him knowingly. She supposed when it came down to it she did have a lot of interesting stories to tell about the life she had lived.

"Didn't you know that I'm always wind-swept and interesting?" she teased with a grin while Draco began to laugh.

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**A/N: Dear Readers,**

**Many of you are aware that I have run out of pre-written chapters for this fic, meaning I'm now writing as I go. I understand that it's annoying to have to wait for an update, but I do have a life. I don't just get to spend all my time writing fan-fiction for your amusement. As such, your patience is appreciated. If you're checking every day for updates on this, you're out of luck. I can't maintain that speed without having them all pre-written anymore. If you enjoy the story as much as you claim by checking daily, then please continue to enjoy it without being rude to me. Trust me, rudeness makes me want to spite you and make you wait longer, so it gets everyone nowhere to gripe at me. **

**I like knowing that you're enjoying the story and that you're checking often for updates. I also understand the torture of wanting to read a fic I'm enjoying and getting cranky at not having more available when I want it. But I can only type so fast and as you know I'm juggling a LOT of fics. Some of them are complete, just FYI, so if you like my writing and don't want to wait for updates, read those. In the meantime, begging me to update every story means I can't focus on one specific one without neglecting the others. I'm not a machine, and as much as I'd like to simply be able to think my story onto the paper rather than having to type it all out, we're just not there yet. Until then, updates will be sporadic, though I hope to update this at least every two weeks at the maximum.**

**On that note I need your opinion. Would you prefer more frequent updates with shorter chapters, or are you happy to wait a bit longer and get nice meaty chapters of 5k+ words?**

**Let me know =) xx-Kitten.**


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N: I know, I'm a rotten stinker for making you wait so long for an update. I'm so sorry. I got inspiration-blocked on this fic and might have been horribly neglectful. Please forgive me. I really hope you enjoy this new chapter and the window into what's to come. Don't forget to pop a review at the bottom to tell me any of your thoughts, hopes, projections or complaints about my fic. I love doing what I can to make my darling cherubs happy! Much love! xx-Kitten.**

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**Howl for Me**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 18**

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The rest of dinner had gone well enough by Hermione's approximation. Mr and Mrs Malfoy had quizzed her on her plans regarding the changes she was making to how the Ministry and wizarding society as whole viewed werewolves and they'd seemed rather shocked by her lack of prejudice. Hermione had thought it all rather amusing, though the niggling little thought in her head that had things been reversed and she been the werewolf, they would've been less than pleasant, did torment her.

"So," Draco began when they'd all left the table, Narcissa and Lucius bidding her a good night before they'd retired to their wing of the Manor. Hermione chuckled as she watched the elder Mr and Mrs Malfoy begin to play with each other as they strolled away down the corridor, Mrs Malfoy picking up a cushion as she passed a settee and whumping Mr Malfoy over the head with it before laughing gleefully and taking off down the hall at a run when he let out a growl of surprise.

"So?" Hermione asked, turning her attention back to her fiancé and finding him watching her with that same, golden-hued gaze. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine when a slow, predatory smirk curled across his face.

"Should we move some more of your things here?" he offered and Hermione knew it had taken more restraint that she'd expected he had to offer to find anything else to do that wasn't crawling into bed with one another. The effects of their injections were bubbling through her blood, making Hermione want to forget all about the things she'd said regarding not letting him snog her until they were married. In fact she wanted to forget all about needing to wait until their wedding night to begin consummating this particular match but she knew it would be foolish of her to do so.

"That might be a good idea," Hermione conceded, knowing that if he'd suggested they retire to the bedroom, they'd wind up shagging and then she'd miss the bride's night Tracy was planning and wouldn't leave the bed for weeks.

"We could find alternative activities to engage in, if you'd prefer," Draco told her, grinning as though he could smell the desire pouring off her.

"Don't look at me with those eyes," Hermione chided him, finding it harder and harder to resist the puppy-dog eyes he shot her way.

"Why not, wifey?" Draco asked and Hermione could hear the smugness in his voice. He liked that he was getting to her, Hermione could tell.

"Because these silly injections are making us both want to crawl into bed together and if we do that we're liable to miss the wedding," Hermione admitted, wandering through the Manor in the direction she assumed his wing was located.

"I wouldn't mind," Draco shrugged.

"Maybe so, but I would. I'd like to be there to watch my best friends get married. I'd like to see them dressed in their fancy wedding robes," Hermione told him. She bit her lip on a moan when he reached out and took her hand to stop her from making a wrong turn, sliding his fingers across her palm and interlocking them with hers. The contact was like heaven and Hermione felt her body respond with a roar of approval to be being touched at all by him.

"I knew I'd charm you into wanting to wed me, wifey," Draco grinned smugly as though she was objecting because she was looking forward to marrying him.

"Oh yes, it's all your debonair wit," Hermione rolled her eyes sarcastically, "It has nothing to do with the fact that the Ministry is manipulating our emotions and our pheromones and making us want to shag each other silly."

"Must you remind me?" he asked, though he didn't look overly put out about it.

"I must," Hermione nodded, "I find it makes it easier to recall that we shouldn't just give into these wild urges because they are entirely concocted. And since we don't want to miss the wedding, and I don't want to miss the Hens night that Tracy invited all of us brides to tomorrow night, we'll not be climbing into bed for the purpose of shagging this evening."

"Does that mean you'll stay to sleep?" Malfoy asked, still holding her hand inside his own as he led her down the hall.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, knowing she wouldn't cope any better than he would if they tried to part ways for the evening, "Now since I don't feel like doing any more packing, why don't you give me a tour?"

Draco grinned at her before pulling out his wand and waving it to light the many lamps in the hall he was leading her down.

"Would you like me to begin with the front entrance?" he offered.

"No thank you," Hermione replied, "You already showed me that on the way in for dinner. I also don't need to see the dining room or the drawing room."

"Bossy," he accused, looking amused by her tone.

Hermione was grateful for something to do that would keep them from groping one another. She didn't know how much restraint she had left with the injections coursing through her system and making her crazy. She was already considering the idea of bending the rules with plans of snogging him until she could think straight again. Which was not a good thing. She knew that she would have enough trouble stopping at just a snog. She didn't want to think about what agony he might be in were she to tease him with a kiss when the effects of the injection were so fresh in his system.

"Why don't I show you the garden then?" he offered, "And everything leading to it. This, for example, is a hallway."

Hermione couldn't help it when she laughed out loud at his entirely serious expression and tone as he informed her such. It was entirely too comical to watch him pull out those fancy manners he'd had drummed into him as a child for the purpose of playing tour guide.

"I'd never have known had you not informed me," Hermione giggled, "What about this one?"

"A doorway," he smirked, "I'm unsurprised someone of such uneducated background doesn't recognise one. They're something the rich indulge in."

Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing some more at his pompous tone.

"That way lies the gallery," he nodded towards an arched doorway to their left some minutes later, "I recommend avoiding that place at all costs. All of my ancestors paintings are hanging in the gallery and they will either be horribly rude to you about your blood status – as they are to Father and I about being half-breeds now – or they will draw you into exceeding dull conversation as they are visited so infrequently."

"How droll," Hermione commented, enjoying playing tourist more than she'd expected, "I'll see to it that I note its location and don't enter unless dire circumstance arises."

"A wise decision," he nodded, smirking, "Now over here we have the ballroom, though it's been some time since it was used for the purpose of a ball."

Hermione noticed that it seemed terribly dark in comparison to the rest of the house – not only as a result of being a large and unlit space – but as though it knew Dark magic.

"That is where the Dark lord held many of his revels and meetings," Draco told her quietly, shuddering as he passed it, "Mother and Father don't like to enter any more than I do. Terrible things happened in that ballroom."

"Perhaps we'll have to amend that," Hermione replied, "After all, with this wedding going on, people are going to need places to come in out of the weather if it rains, and the room can't simply be allowed to brood over the darkness it has known. Fill it with light, laughter and merriment and the past can be better forgotten."

Malfoy regarded her for a minute as they paused in the doorway.

"Father and I were both bitten in that room," he admitted quietly, "It will take quite the merry gathering to lighten the effects of that horrible place."

"Then let's begin now," Hermione insisted, letting go of his hand and stepping a little further into the room. She began muttering incantations to light the fireplace along the far wall, noting the size of it. She lit the many torches along the walls as well, muttering spells to ensure the flames would not escape and damage the house, but would continue to burn all evening long. Next she waved her wand at the Grand piano she saw sitting shoved in the corner. She flicked her wand at it, silently charming it to play soft, sweet tunes.

"Do you have any elves you could spare?" Hermione asked him, looking over her shoulder and noticing the haunted expression on his face. His eyes were still gold with the injection, but there was no trace of desire lingering in their depths now.

In their place were glimmers of terror and anger, and something akin to grief. Hermione's heart squeezed inside her chest at the sight. It might have been a long while until this law was initiated since she had seen Malfoy, but those emotions dancing in his eyes brought the war back with alarmingly sharp clarity and she didn't at all like it. He looked then the way he had done during their sixth year. In fact he looked as he'd done when she'd been tortured in the drawing room. Terrified, furious and as though he had lost something terribly important. She'd never consider the expressions so carefully until that moment as she watched him, but she suddenly found it to be true and she wondered just what his thoughts had been during that terrible day while she'd been at Bellatrix's mercy.

"Kimmel," he spoke sharply, "Zeet."

Both elves popped into the room and blinked at him fearfully when they saw where they were.

"Do whatever Granger asks of you," he ordered the elves, waving a hand towards her. The elves both turned to her, their eyes wide.

"Miss?" they asked her.

"Hello Kimmel, Zeet," Hermione greeted the elves, "I wondered if I could trouble you with bringing some life back into this room? Could you remove all the coverings on the windows to allow the light in? And perhaps see to it that it's given a thorough clean. There's to be a wedding next week and the room will be required for dancing."

"Right away Miss," they squeaked, looking worried by the idea of there being a wedding and she wondered if they'd been informed. They probably had. Just not of the notion of using the ballroom for anything.

"Why are you doing this?" Draco asked, her, holding his hand towards her and looking like he refused to step foot through the door, refusing to cross the threshold into the room at all. Hermione could tell he wanted to pull her away from the place with a fierce urge but didn't dare enter to retrieve her.

"Because the war is over," Hermione shrugged, "The world is moving on, trying to put itself back together and if I'm to be married into this family, I will see to it that the Malfoys move on and heal along with the rest of our world. That means cleansing this place of darkness and the horror that occurred here. And the only way to un-teach malevolence is to spread light and happiness in its festering places. I will draw the darkness out of this house and this family like lancing pus from a wound if I must."

He took her hand tightly as she crossed back to the doorway, tugging her gently until she was free of the room. Hermione breathed in his scent as he drew her to his chest, snagging his arms around her slim frame and pressing her to him. She could feel him trembling slightly as though the horrors he'd witnessed and endured in this room still wracked him poignantly.

Hermione laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his slim hips in return and holding him until the trembling ceased. She didn't speak and he seemed beyond anymore words. She realised then that for all that the world had been moving on, things in Malfoy Manor had not been so thoroughly examined.

Where she and her friends had been given the chance to move on with their lives – to return to school or enter the workforce as they chose – the Malfoy's had been allowed no such privilege. Instead they had been sentenced to confinement within the very place they'd been held prisoner by Voldemort during the war. They'd been branded criminals and shoved away in their home where they were monitored but otherwise left to fester in their own remnant darkness.

They had not been given the chance to heal and move past the horrors of the war. They had not found ways to overcome their fear and their pain. She supposed many – herself included until just then – had simply assumed they would be fine. After all, they were being forced to lie in the beds they had made. Why should they feel unsafe in their own home? Many would have no clue of the things the Malfoys had endured in the Manor during the war. Many more had no inkling that they were now werewolves.

No one had thought to make sure they were on the mend.

As she laid her head on Malfoy's chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat racing inside his ribcage, Hermione realised there was another reason she'd been paired with Draco. She was the only one with a firm grasp on the realities of lycanthropy, yes. She was also one of the only ones who would pry into their lives and lance the festering wounds that lay hidden. Her stubbornness and her dogged determination knew no bounds and if there was one thing she could do, it was to ensure that the Malfoy family would never fall prey to such darkness again. She would see to it.

She would be bearing the Malfoy heirs, after all. And Hermione would tolerate nothing less than love and happiness surrounding her now. Squeezing Malfoy a little tighter, Hermione went up on her toes and pressed her lips to the fluttering pulse point in his neck, feeling it dancing beneath the sensitive flesh. He was clearly still too effected by the room and its history to react with desire and Hermione was grateful.

"You were going to show me the gardens," she reminded him softly, and she felt him nod. His hands pressed her to him a little harder as though he didn't want to let her go, "Is the fastest way through those doors."

She nodded towards the other end of the ball room where a full wall of glass doors led to the world outside.

"I can't go in there," he told her, pressing her to him tighter as though he feared she might return into the room. Hermione wondered what it cost him to admit to his fear and his weakness like that. Especially to her.

She didn't ask though. Instead Hermione nodded in understanding, aiming her wand towards the doors and causing them all to open wide onto the outside patio and into the gardens beyond. She wouldn't go back in there this evening, but there was nothing wrong with being able to hear the piano playing while they were outside.

"Is there another way into the gardens?" Hermione asked him as she leaned back in his arms and peered into his face. His eyes were still gold and still fixed on her, but the haunted expression in them remained.

"This way," he nodded down the hallway behind her and Hermione nodded before releasing him. She let him take her hand and lead her down the hall, his steps a little heavier than they were before but she didn't comment on it.

Instead she silently vowed to herself that for all that she wasn't overly thrilled about being matched with him thanks to this bloody marriage law, she was going to get used to it and she was going to make damn sure that their children never had to see that look in his eyes while he was inside his own house.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: I'm so sorry for keeping you all waiting for so long on this fic my darling Cherubs! You will be pleased to know, however, that I've got my mojo back with a vengeance and I guarantee this fic will be complete by the end of the year - probably sooner. I'm still tossing up how far I want to take it, so you guys tell me. Would you prefer this to grow into a 50 chapter fic with lots of stuff after the wedding, or are you just dying for the wedding and the honeymoon and then ready to give it up? I only ask because I know I have a bad habit of quitting on reading fics once the couples are together, so I wondered if you guys do that too? Let me know! Also, thanks so much for your patience and all your kind reviews. You're all such darlings. Much love! xx-Kitten  
**

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**Howl for Me  
**

_By Kittenshift17  
_

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**Chapter 19**

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The gardens were a delight. Even in the late light of evening, they were utterly glorious and Hermione could think of no better place to hold a wedding ceremony, especially one so large as the group wedding they would be having. The music flooding from the entry to the ballroom, spilling out over the patio and into the garden beyond roused fairies in the gardens to light up and seek to discover the source of the sound.

Hermione adored that about fairies. Drawn to music like moths to flames, they were entirely unable to resist investigating whenever they heard it. They lit the trees, bushes and flower-beds with their lights, beginning to flutter and dance as she held Draco's hand in the cool evening air.

"Mother adores the gardens," Draco told her quietly as he led her through the lush expanse, "These days she spends more time out here than ever before."

"I've never imagined Narcissa to be the type of woman willing to get her hands dirty," Hermione replied, intrigued by the very idea.

"She didn't used to be," Draco said, "But after the war and after being sentenced to remain here on house arrest most of the time, it's become one of her only reprieves. The Manor, for all its lavishness, can be oppressive and cold like any prison. She prefers to be out here in the gardens, under the sunshine. Father tends to join her, though he doesn't participate in the gardening."

"What does he do to amuse himself?"

"He reads. Avidly," Draco shrugged, "As do I. He also remotely oversees the number of business ventures, stock investments and other pies he had his fingers and his money in. They used to hold lavish parties with all their pureblood friends of high society, but after the trials, there have been less of those."

Hermione nodded her head in understanding.

"I was surprised when I received your guest list to see so many of the families listed on it. I was under the impression most of them were shunning your family for your defection during the war."

"Many of them still do," Draco nodded, "Those who don't are generally those who I am friends with from Hogwarts. Pansy, Theo, Greg. Those of them who had families caught up with the Dark Lord like we were tended to avoid us at first but many are only too happy to move on now that it is over. They'll never truly forgive completely, but they're moving on. Goyle and Theo's fathers were both sentenced to long stints in Azkaban, partially as a result of being named by my father and I as being Death Eaters. But their wives and their children were… relieved, I think."

"Relieved it was over?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly at the way he looked so haunted.

"Relieved to be free of them," Draco qualified quietly, looking at her seriously for a long moment, "Being a Death Eater… participating in that kind of depravity and pushing the boundaries that way… It makes it hard to go back to following the rules of society and keeping to those practices that are respectable and decent. Theo's father was never a nice person, even when Theo was a boy, but during the war when the Dark Lord returned, he turned into a monster. Theo still has scars from the things his father did to him."

Hermione shivered at the very idea.

"What about you, Draco?" Hermione asked him quietly in the dark, "Do you have trouble keeping to the rules of society?"

He stared back at her unfathomably for a long time in silence and Hermione feared she had pushed him too far, too soon. She bit her lip as she gazed up at him boldly in the dim light. His eyes still glowed gold from the injection and she could see heat simmering in his gaze, but there were other emotions too. Fear. Anger. Worry.

"Sometimes," he whispered after what felt like hours, admitting the utter truth to her, "Sometimes there are things that I know I've done in the past and think I could do again. Not the wretched, horrible kinds of things Nott Snr might've participated in. Little things like breaking the law and leaving the Manor. Like going after what I want unapologetically. Blurring the lines of what is and is not ethical. Some forms of Dark Magic that aren't so wretched but can be useful."

Hermione nodded her head slowly. She could relate to that idea. She understood the notion of sometimes having to bend the rules to achieve her own ends and she didn't doubt that a Slytherin type family like the Malfoys would undoubtedly feel the same. Though she suspected some of their ends were much less savoury than her own.

"Tell me something else about you," she said quietly, deciding it was time to change the subject, "You said you read avidly? I don't recall you being a big reader when we were at school."

"I wasn't," he gave her a lopsided smile and Hermione could tell the subject change was obvious but he appreciated it nonetheless, "I much preferred to prank and tease others or to play Quidditch than to read. But there's not much else to do. Sometimes Father and I play chess, but beyond that I've only my family for company most of the time and I'm not often allowed to leave the Manor."

"Do you think they'll lift that mandate when we're married?" Hermione asked him curiously, wondering how things might work out if once the requirement to be married was handled and he no longer had the excuse to leave the house for the purpose of following their rules.

"I got a five year sentence," he informed her, "So at the end of this year I'll be allowed to come and go again as I please, though I'll still be monitored for a time to ensure I'm not engaging in criminal activity."

He tugged on her hand gently, leading her back towards the Manor as though intent on continuing to give her a tour of the grounds.

"I can't fathom being stuck here for so long without going completely mad," Hermione told him as he led her back into the house and began directing her towards where the kitchen and the pool were, showing her each of them in turn.

"Mostly I spend a lot of time reading, entertaining Greg, Theo, and Blaise when I can talk them into joining me here at the Manor, playing chess with father or in my lab," he explained, "Come on, I'll show it to you. It's in my wing."

"You have a lab?" Hermione asked him.

"Didn't you know I'm an avid potioneer, Granger?" he asked her, smirking a bit, "We buy Wolfsbane because I haven't quite mastered it since it's so fiddly, but I can make most other things. I tend to focus mostly on medical potions, which I ship to St. Mungo's."

"Really?" Hermione asked, surprised to hear it.

"When we were released from Azkaban on house arrest, Father and I were both charged with finding ways to better the community and rectify some of our mistakes. Father funded the implementation of the War Widows and Orphans charity and orphanage. I got in contact with the hospitals and began providing them with potions to ensure their stock was always fresh and topped up."

"Were you doing it when you returned to Hogwarts to repeat seventh year?" Hermione asked curiously, her eyes widening as he led her into his potions lab. It was expansive, but not obscene and all over it different potions bubbled away. There was a station for preparing ingredients and the walls were lined with jars of different things to be used in his work.

"Yeah, I kept the Hospital Wing there stocked while I was taking my NEWTs," Malfoy nodded his head seriously, "It was part of my probation and it kept me busy. I wasn't exactly popular when we returned and being locked away in a room brewing potions gave me an excuse not to be in the line of fire for a while. Most of the Slytherins hated me for getting off lightly when their families suffered as a result of me or my father naming them as being involved with the Dark Lord. The rest of you lot mostly despised me for having been a Death Eater, having let the others into the school in sixth year and generally for being a rotten sod."

Hermione found herself smiling gently at his words even as she wandered deeper into his lab, investigating each of the potions he was working on to see if she could guess by colour or scent alone what they might be. She recognised the Dreamless Sleep Draught easily enough, along with the Burn Salve he was in the process of thickening.

"Is this…?" she asked, stopping in front of one of the steaming potions to examine it in her surprise.

"Skelegrow?" he asked before nodding, "Yeah. Most people don't realise that one of the key ingredients is werewolf saliva that has to be harvested during the days when the wolf is awake. I make some of the most effective Skelegrow the wizarding world has ever seen."

"How did I not know that you do this?" Hermione asked him, baffled by his shrug as though he believed that being able to help others by suffering his condition to make a better potion was what made being a werewolf worthwhile.

"I don't exactly advertise it. I imagine a few people might balk at the idea of receiving the life-saving potions they need if they knew they'd been made by an ex-Death-Eater," Malfoy shrugged at her again.

"This is really cool," Hermione told him, smiling widely now.

She would never have believed two days ago that learning things about Draco Malfoy could be so fascinating, and yet here she was, utterly intrigued by the things he did with his free time and the ventures he undertook. He grinned crookedly at her in return and Hermione felt another flare of desire sweep through her at the sight of it.

His nostrils flared as though he could smell the change in her scent and his eyes glowed a little brighter gold.

"You're killing me, Granger," he groaned, stalking closer and Hermione quivered with anticipation when he reached her.

He smoothed his hands over the tops of her shoulders and down her arms slightly before curving them around and down her back. Hermione arched into the touch, her breath catching in her throat at the incredible feel of his touch against her skin. Smoothing her own hands against his firm chest, Hermione leaned into him, whimpering when he bent slightly and dragged his tongue over the bite he'd left on her shoulder that morning.

"You really shouldn't do that," Hermione said breathlessly, trying to control the way her whole body throbbed and pulsed with need suddenly, the injections in her system making her wild with how badly she wanted to let him have his way with her.

"How serious were you about making me hold out until the wedding?" he asked, his voice turning husky and gravelly with need.

"We shouldn't, Malfoy," Hermione told him even as he trailed a burning line of kisses up her neck and across her jaw. She desperately wanted to say to hell with the consequences and with resistance against his onslaught of pleasure.

The nagging reminder that she wouldn't be doing any of this were it not for their injections bothered her and Hermione whimpered again when Malfoy trailed his line of kisses down her jaw and over to the corner of her mouth. Her lips tingled with how badly she wanted to snog him but she just knew that if she snogged him, she was going to shag him. Probably right there in his potions lab.

It didn't at all bode well for her continued resistance when he pressed one, two, three kisses to the corner of her mouth, making Hermione crazy with desire. When she didn't turn her head into the kisses to bring them lip on lip contact, Malfoy continued kissing his way over her face and Hermione felt a twist inside of her, something powerful and profound when he kissed across her cheeks, pressing a kiss to her right eyelid before trailing kisses over her nose to the other eyelid too.

She had never felt more adored than she did in that moment. The kisses were feather-light and almost reverent. They made butterflies swarm in her tummy and Hermione felt her resolve to wait until the wedding beginning to crumble. Surely one little kiss wouldn't hurt, would it?

"Granger?" he asked, his voice low and intimate. Hermione realised with a jolt that her thumbs were smoothing over his nipples inside his shirt and she was pressed flush against him. She could feel the evidence of his desire for her prodding at her stomach and she'd never wanted anything more than to throw caution to the wind and ravish him senseless right then.

"Malfoy?" Hermione whimpered in reply to his question.

"Why are you resisting?" he asked in a growly whisper.

"Because we barely know each other," Hermione replied, moaning softly when he returned his attention to licking, nipping and kissing her neck, tormenting the bite he'd given her and teasing her pulse point hungrily, driving Hermione wild with need, "And because the injections are making us want this more than we might otherwise."

"Do you think it's a good idea to hold out completely until the wedding?" he asked next, "That's six more nights from now, Granger. Can you do that? I don't think I can."

Hermione bit her lip, nuzzling into his neck hungrily and beginning to return the torture he was inflicting on her. His hands tightened on her lower back as she nipped the side of his neck. She knew he could hear her heart racing inside her chest, that he could smell the liquid desire pooling between her legs and dampening her knickers.

"I don't think I can either," Hermione whispered truthfully, her nose skimming across his collarbone as she breathed in his delectable scent.

He groaned against her, pressing her even closer to himself like he wanted to mould them together and never let her go. The sound was so erotic that Hermione was sure it was threatening her sanity and robbing her of reason. When his hands slipped further down her body to rest on her bum, he ground her pelvis against his and Hermione was sure she was losing her mind. Nothing had ever felt as good as the feel of Draco Malfoy so wild with desire for her.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, his lips tormenting the bite mark he'd left on her again.

"I don't know," Hermione whispered, "But I know that if I snog you right now, I'm going to give in completely and shag you."

"You're not making this easy," he groaned, clutching her even tighter as though he feared he might try to snog her if her face weren't hidden against his neck. Desire bubbled stickily between them like the potions all around them bubbled and simmered hotly.

Hermione squeaked when he suddenly hauled her up his body, her legs automatically going around his waist and locking against the small of his back while her arms slid around his neck. Before she could register what was happening he was striding out of the lab and away through the Manor. Hermione didn't doubt they were headed for his bedroom. Her mind, foggy with need, suddenly recalled that in less than a week it would be her bedroom as much as his and that they would be expected to share it for the rest of their natural lives.

The idea made her head spin and made her throb and ache needily. She was going to marry him. There was no doubt about it anymore. The injections might've been the cause for the attraction between them at all, but Hermione would be lying if she were to say she'd never found him attractive before this whole mess had begun. She hadn't see him in a long time before the announcement of the law. Not since they'd both been at Hogwarts to repeat seventh year. Even before then however, Hermione had been aware that he was attractive. She even recalled a conversation with Ginny about it from fifth year when they lamented the utter unfairness that someone so rotten could look so good.

When he reached the bedroom, Draco kicked the door closed behind himself as he entered, still carrying her against him. Hermione groaned when he crossed to the bed and laid her down on it, pressing into her as though he might take her right through their clothing. He pulled back far enough to peer down into her eyes and Hermione could see that his were wild with hunger, glittering gold and yearning to take her.

"What can I do to you, Hermione?" he asked seriously, his voice so husky that she almost couldn't understand him, "You won't let me snog you and you've vetoed intercourse. So what _can_ I do to you?"

"What do you want to do to me?" Hermione whispered, another rush of heat coursing through her at the sound of her first name on his lips.

"_Everything_," he growled, his eyes never wavering from her face.

Sweet Merlin, she wasn't expecting that answer! His craving for her was like a tangible, living thing and Hermione couldn't resist the idea of giving in a bit.

"This is a bad idea," she whispered, "If I give you an inch you'll take a mile."

"What if I didn't?" he asked, clearly willing to bargain for the chance to have at her in some manner, "You tell me what's allowed and I won't put a paw over the line, Granger. Just give me _something._"

Goddess, she must be losing her mind. She could see that he was. He was practically feral with how badly he wanted to ravish her and she didn't doubt that his wolf was wanting to lay claim to her. She mulled over the idea, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He was going to be her husband in a few days time. Hermione knew that. She'd accepted it. She understood that it would happen and when it did she would be expected to give herself to him as his wife for the rest of their lives. She would bear his children, share his bed and be his wife.

She was also beginning to think that if she tried to make them both hold out until the actual wedding, he was liable to ravish her in front of everyone when she finally let him snog her. That being said, she wanted to make the ceremony special in some way. She wanted to hold out on something to make it feel more genuine. The idea tormented her. Maybe he had a point. If they kissed she knew she'd shag him into oblivion. Snogging had always been one of her biggest weaknesses. A good snog could have her spreading her legs faster than she could say Quidditch.

But what if they could do other things? She wanted to hold out on the snogging and the full sexual intercourse until they were married, just to make it a bit more special. But there were a number of other things they could do. Malfoy continued to watch her, having stilled completely against her but for the hammering of his heart inside his chest. She could feel it against her own, pounding out a rapid beat. He was nestled between her legs, pressing her into the mattress deliciously and making her ache all the more with how badly she wanted him to touch her.

Her hands tingled with how badly she wanted to touch him in return.

"No snogging on the mouth," Hermione whispered, "And no sticking that in me. Not until we're married."

She arched against the heavy erection she could feel inside his trousers.

"And everything else?" he asked, his voice so husky it was hoarse.

Hermione slid her hands down his back, tugging his shirt free of his trousers and beginning to peel it off over his head.

"Everything else is fair game."


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N: Look at you glaring at me! I know what you're thinking. I said I'd have this posted for you ages ago and then I left you hanging for 3 months. I'm so sorry. Time just slipped away from me and the plunnies weren't fighting fair. I do hope this chapter will make up for making you wait for so long. ALSO! 1150+ reviews! You guys are amazing! I can't believe we cleared 1k at all, let alone 150 over it. You're such wonderful darlings! Now, everyone has mentioned that they would love to see me go to 50 chappies or more with this fic, and let me tell you, I'm super keen to do it. I'm going to be devoting more time to working on this and my other most advanced fics, so updates will get more frequent (I'm aiming for a chapter a week across about 7 fics, a chapter each week per fic) **

**Now, I've been a bit reluctant thus far to go into much detail about the relationships the others are experiencing while Draco and Hermione are so hot and heavy. Mostly because this has been entirely from Hermione's POV until now and I'm not sure how well it would flow to randomly given you a sexy Ginny/Blaise scene. I want to, believe me, but how do I do it whilst still having it from Hermione's POV without making her into a peeping tom?**

**What are your thoughts?**

**Much love! xx-Kitten**

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**Howl for Me**

_By Kittenshfit17_

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**Chapter 20**

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Malfoy groaned as Hermione peeled him out of his shirt and told him he could have his wicked way with her. Her whole body tingled needily at the sound, an aching throb beginning to pulse between her legs and making her crazy. Sweet Merlin, but she wanted him. She didn't think she'd ever wanted anything as much as she wanted him in that moment.

Sliding her hands down his bare back, Hermione traced the many scars littering his flesh, silky against his already smooth skin. She found herself arching under him again, rubbing herself against him, trying to bring herself into closer contact with as much of him as she could. She felt like her skin was on fire with the need to be touched. With lust. Desire. Hot and sticky it bubbled in her blood right under her skin, burning so much that she was sure only the heat of his hands upon her body would sate the ache.

He buried his face in her neck and began his divine torture while Hermione lost her breath. The injections in her system made her whole body sensitive to his touch, made every brush of his hands, his lips, his skin, against her own that much more intense. His lips against her neck tickled and tingled in the best way, making her heart race inside her chest, making her sweat, making her breath come in short, sharp pants. She felt like she couldn't get enough of him. Of being touched. Of being so close to him.

His lemon and caramel scent permeated her senses, making her delirious with need. His touch felt like fire upon her skin and she was sure she was losing her mind beneath his onslaught. Even as he tormented her, Hermione felt his hands reaching for the hem of her dress, hauling it up her body and peeling it off over her head, leaving her in only her underwear beneath him upon the mattress.

He pulled back from her slightly as he helped rid her of the garment and Hermione shivered beneath the intensity of his gaze as he swept it hotly over her exposed flesh. The lace of her underwear seemed to turn him on all the more and Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from begging him to have his wicked way with her right then. His face betrayed how much he wanted to, his gaze raking over her slowly, learning every curve of her scantily clad flesh, lingering on the roundness of her breasts inside her bra and tracing the dip of her small waist hungrily.

Hermione could hear herself pouting as she stared up at him, her own gaze trailing over the bare expanse of his chest and noting again the man scars littering his skin. She felt the strongest urge to trace them with her fingers and to kiss each and every one of them upon his flesh. Indeed, she felt the need to taste every part of him that he'd let her have. When he leaned back into her, Hermione was sure her heart might race its way right through her ribcage and out of her chest.

As soon as his lips had access to more of her skin, Malfoy began to pepper her with kisses, licks and nips that made her eyes cross in frustration. She arched against the hot, hard lump she could feel prodding her through his trousers, making her all the more eager to feel him touch her everywhere. The past few days spent in his company had taught her that she enjoyed his touch immensely and also that he didn't seem able to keep his hands to himself.

When he unsnapped the front clasp on her bra, Hermione hissed in delighted surprise. It turned into a throaty moan of pleasure as his mouth engulfed her left breast, drawing the pebbled peak of her nipple into his mouth and suckling just hard enough to smart.

"Oh my gosh, Malfoy," Hermione whispered, feeling delirious with pleasure. She tangled her fingers into his blonde hair needily, arching into him again. The low growl of what she suspected must be contentment mixed with lust that he issued at her words sent a tingling shiver of neediness running through her. His tongue and mouth vibrated with the sound around her nipple and Hermione felt certain that the injections in her system were making it all the more enjoyable.

And for the first time since having to be given them, Hermione wasn't at all put out about that.

When he switched to her other nipple, his fingers tormenting the abandoned peak, Hermione cried out desperately. She could feel the sensation coursing through her, chasing her towards the peak of pleasure, threatening to shove her from it and into the awaiting abyss below. She'd never known her nipples could be so sensitive! Her breath came in ragged gasps and Hermione was sure she must be losing her mind.

Just when she was sure she couldn't take another moment of the divine torture, something snapped free inside of her and Hermione hummed in delighted contentment, her whole body throbbing and pulsing with need. Without thinking, she pried his mouth from her nipple, and pulled his face within her reach before showering the entire area but for his lips with soft, sweet kisses.

Peppering them over his high cheekbones, along the length of his pointed jaw, across his nose and over his forehead, Hermione felt utterly mindless with the way her insides pulsed and quaked with pent up need. Endorphins rushed through her and she was sure she'd never felt so good in all her life.

"Did you just…?" he asked, lifting his head to peer at her when she loosened her grip on him slightly.

His eyes glowed such a shade of gold that she was sure they would actually glow like fireflies in the dark were the room unlit. His nostrils flared, drawing in the scent of her desire as the orgasm crested and crashed through her.

"Fuck," he whispered, watching her with a mixture of awe and hunger that made her toes curl all the more. He looked like he couldn't stand the thought of seeing her come undone so easily. At least, not without unravelling her again and again and again.

Hermione reached for him, her body still singing with pleasure. She smoothed her hands over the tight expanse of his chest and across his ribs, her raging desire not at all abated with the orgasm. In fact, she suspected the orgasm had made her craving for him even stronger.

"More," Hermione whispered, pulling him even closer and reaching for his belt buckle.

The tinkling sound it made as she unbuckled it and began working on the fastening of his jeans titillated her and Hermione groaned when he returned his attention to her breasts, even more frantic in his need for her now than he'd been before. He peeled her out of her bra completely until she was topless and sprawled upon his bed.

Hermione made a noise of protest when he moved out of reach of her hands before she could rid him of his trousers. His kissed his way down the length of her body, pausing often to lick, nip and kiss different parts of her. He stopped when his nose was pressed to the patch of soft skin just below her bellybutton.

"Fuck," he breathed out slowly again, drawing the word out into a long sigh.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, watching as he closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath in through his nose, pressing the tip of it to her skin as though he were breathing her in.

"I can…" he murmured before stopping, still breathing in her scent like he couldn't get enough of it. He nipped her very lightly before breathing her in again and Hermione squirmed under him, hating the way whatever he was doing seemed to be turning her on even more.

When he opened his eyes, he peered at her from where he rested against her abdomen.

"I can smell how fertile you are," he whispered, "How receptive you are. It's turning me on. I can literally smell how ready your body is to be pregnant with my cubs."

"Please don't refer to our future children as 'cubs', Malfoy," Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, even as a thrill raced through her at the very idea of being pregnant.

She knew she was in over her head that very moment. She shouldn't be thrilled or excited by the prospect of having Draco Malfoy impregnate her. Malfoy chuckled at her reply and Hermione could tell that though she'd amused him, she had also completely baffled him again. He didn't seem to know what to make of the fact that she was so accepting of everything he did or said as a result of being a werewolf. Anyone else might have recoiled violently from the notion of referring to children as cubs or from the idea of being told he could smell her fertility levels and smell that her body was making ready to carry a child in her womb.

"Don't say 'our future children' again until you're ready to let me begin planting them inside you, Granger," he murmured, his voice going huskier than ever.

She ought to have been alarmed by the intensity of his stare and the way he looked like he wanted to devour her. She ought to have been horrified to learn he was so interested in seeing her pregnant with his children. In some ways she was a bit unnerved, but not really by how much he seemed to want that and by how much it turned him on.

No, she was concerned by how much she found herself wanting it too.

Biting her lip, Hermione laid her head back on the bed as he returned his attention to her stomach, nipping and kissing her as he continued south. When she felt his fingers sliding under the waistband of her knickers, Hermione tensed with anticipation. Before he could remove them, however, he stopped again suddenly before crawling back up her body just as torturously as he'd kissed his way down it.

He tormented her nipples with his fingers and his tongue. And Hermione arched under him when he pressed himself down on top of her, nuzzling his face into her neck and nipping the bite mark he'd made on her.

"You're torturing me," Hermione whispered.

"I know," he replied, sounding smug, "But I figure that if you're going to make me wait until the wedding, then you'll just have to wait too, wifey."

Hermione groaned, tunnelling her hands into his blonde hair.

"Are you serious?" she asked him, stretching her neck to better allow him access to kiss her there, "You're going to rile me up like that and then just leave me hanging?"

He nipped the length of her neck just hard enough to smart without breaking the skin and Hermione's heart skipped several beats. His kissed the length of her jaw too, angling across her cheek and toward her lips again. Hermione hated him a little for how much she wanted to turn her head and kiss him full on the mouth when he began pressing feather-light, innocent little kisses to the corner of her mouth that made her stomach do backflips.

"If I strip you out of those knickers right now," he murmured, punctuating each word with another peck to the corner of her mouth, "I'm going to fuck you. You smell too good not to."

"You don't fight fair," Hermione accused him breathlessly, hating herself for wanting to hold out yet also wanting to rip her knickers off and pull him so deep inside of herself that neither of them would know where she ended and he began.

"You're the one with the rules about holding out," he replied huskily.

"Oh I hate you," Hermione sighed, arching under him again and trying to bring his body into even closer contact with hers. She looped her arms around his neck, holding him to her tightly and trying to control the urge she had to say 'to hell with waiting'.

"No you don't," he disagreed with a wicked chuckle, "You want me so badly that your knickers are drenched and the words to beg me to take you are sitting right on the tip of your tongue."

He pulled back slightly until he could peer down at her where she was sprawled across his bed. Hermione noticed vaguely as she stared into his eyes that the bed was disgustingly comfortable beneath her. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be holding out on sleeping with him. That she wanted to make her wedding night special. That shagging him right now would probably mean she would miss the Hen's night she was supposed to attend with the rest of the girls in the wedding party tomorrow night. That she'd stay in bed shagging him until neither of them could move.

"I…" Hermione bit her lip before she could blurt out suggestions that he take her right there.

He blinked at her slowly and Hermione watched with some interest as the lupine gold bled from his eyes, leaving pure Malfoy silver behind.

"If you're not about to give in and let me have all of you," he murmured softly, "Then I need to take a cold shower. Now."

"If I snog you, I'm done for," Hermione whispered in reply.

"There's no way you're going to be able to hold out until our wedding night," he smirked at her wickedly, a knowing expression coming onto his face at the very idea.

"Yes I will," Hermione replied stubbornly, even though she feared he might be right.

"You won't, wifey. Not when you're already looking at me like that," he chuckled, "So tell me why it's so important to you. You're not a virgin, so why does it matter if we shag for the first time now as opposed to when we are man and wife?"

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes carefully. She didn't know how to answer him without having him laugh at her or thinking her an idiot. She didn't even rightly know, right in that moment whilst delirious with the injections and with how badly she wanted to take him deep inside herself.

"Because we're both being forced into this," Hermione whispered, forcing herself to think past the raging desire, "The injections make us want each other more than we might've done without them. The Ministry is forcing us to get married and have children when we don't even know each other."

"We've got the rest of our lives to get to know each other, Granger," he reminded her quietly, "Which would be much better achieved if we were shagging."

"Weddings are supposed to be special," Hermione told him softly, opening her eyes to look back at him once more, "We're being robbed of the ability to choose who we marry, how many kids we want to have, when we'll get married and just about everything else… I guess I just want…"

"To have some facet of control over your person," he finished for her when Hermione trailed off. He nodded his head carefully, articulating her thoughts better than Hermione could herself right then.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, "And… I don't know… we're sharing the day with a whole swath of other people and then going to be whisked off to some distant 'Ministry approved' location for weeks by ourselves. At least something about the entire day should be special and just about… you and me."

He blinked at her before a slowly smile crawled across his face.

"You want our first time to be special and meaningful," he smirked wickedly and Hermione felt her cheeks turn pink at his reaction to the idea, just waiting for the teasing to begin.

"That's not what I…" Hermione began hotly, attempting to protest, to deny his accusation.

She stopped when he slipped both hands into her hair, cupping her neck and the back of her head as he peered into her eyes openly. He still looked amused, but he had that almost-fond expression back on his face as well.

"That's exactly what you meant, wifey," he told her baldly, accusing her of what she actually had been thinking but hadn't meant to share with him.

Hermione's blush darkened at the certainty in his voice. He stared back at her from just a few inches away and he looked like he rather approved of the idea that they make it special between them, despite the circumstances and the instigation of the marriage law that had brought them together in the first place. In fact, he looked almost… touched… that she would even think of it. That she didn't want to just give it up to him in a mindless blur of chemically induced lust. Hermione didn't know what to make of the fact that Draco Malfoy looked kind of like her words were a gift that had surprised him yet made him extremely happy.

"Did you say something about taking a cold shower?" Hermione asked, looking for a way to change the subject from her own embarrassing admission. She wanted to get that smug look off his handsome face over the idea that she wanted her first time with him to be special and have meaning to both of them.

"I did," he nodded, still grinning, "And now I need it even more than before."

He rolled off her and got to his feet quickly after that, holding his hand out to her. Hermione eyed it carefully for a moment, not daring to take it when he'd just admitted he needed a cold shower even more after her admission.

"I'm not showering with you when you can't handle me taking me knickers off, Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes at him, "We just agreed that we wouldn't be…"

"Just come here, would you?" he asked, cutting her off and leaning over before scooping her up right off the bed as though she weighed nothing. Hermione squeaked in protest, but he put her down before she could make much of a fuss.

"I should go home," Hermione told him.

"But I want you to stay the night," he protested, looking entirely too delectable standing there shirtless with his belt and his trousers undone. They hung low on his hips, revealing the washboard expanse of his abs and his tight chest. Hermione felt the strongest urge to stoop until she could drag her tongue over every ridge of lean muscle there.

"I shouldn't," Hermione argued, thinking that a particularly bad idea indeed. If she stayed she'd never be able to keep her hands to herself. Last time they'd been given their injections and shared a bed she'd been drunk off her arse and had no idea he was sleeping beside her. No way would she be able to lay there beside him in the dark and not touch him unless she got rip-roaring drunk again.

"But you will," he replied, "Go home if you need to get some of your things, but please come back again?"

"And if I don't?" Hermione challenged.

"Then I'll come and find you. I don't much care _where_ we sleep, Granger, but from here on out I'm sleeping next to you, so you better get used to it," he smirked at her.

"You're impossible," Hermione accused him, narrowing her eyes in annoyance.

"I know, but I'm growing on you, aren't I?"

Hermione opened her mouth, intent on denying such a thing even though she suspected he actually might be. Especially when he stood around with no shirt looking so delicious and making parts of her ache needily. He began to turn away from her, intent on getting that cold shower and looking like he actually really needed it if he was going to keep from ravishing her.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, turning back to her suddenly and striding back across the distance between them.

Hermione squealed in surprised when he took hold of her jaw in both hands, leaned in and pressed his lips firmly, yet deliciously against hers. He didn't snog her or force his tongue into her mouth. In fact, he didn't try to deepen the kiss at all. But he did kiss her. Lips closed, yet silky soft against her own.

"I just said…" Hermine began hotly when he pulled away too few moments later.

"I know what you said," he protested, "But it's been bugging me all night that you let Weasley do that earlier and weren't letting me."

Hermione opened her mouth in outrage before closing it again, unsure what to say to his reasoning and his actions. It wasn't as though it even really counted as a kiss. Sure, in the most basic sense of the word, yes, it was a kiss. But it wasn't a _kiss_. It wasn't some all-consuming, heart-stopping, chest-heaving expression of desire or love. When she couldn't think of anything to say and offered no exclamation of protest on the subject, Malfoy smiled at her again.

Widely. Charmingly. In a way that kind of melted her heart just a little bit. He turned away once more and crossed the bedroom towards the bathroom she could see beyond it, leaving her standing there, feeling a delicious tingling in hr lips and a throbbing ache in her nethers.

"Oh, and Hermione?" he called over his shoulder as Hermione watched him, intent on apparating home to her own flat once more. She shivered again at the sound of her first name rolling off his tongue. No one had a right to say her name in such a seductive manner. Especially not when he was depriving her of the sexual gratification his tone promised every time he uttered it.

He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom and glanced over his shoulder to look at her, raking her body from head to foot with a look she couldn't even begin to describe as being anything other than approving. She raised one eyebrow at him, waiting to hear what he had to say when he was looking at her like that.

"You're growing on me too."


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has been so religiously reading and reviewing this fic. You've all been so sweet and wonderful. I hope you like this chapter. I couldn't help but giggle when I was writing it. =) Much love! xx-Kitten.**

* * *

**Howl for Me**

_By Kittenshift17_

* * *

**Chapter 21**

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When she returned home, Hermione decided the best thing she could do for herself was to copy Malfoy and try a cold shower to cool her raging libido down. His parting words before he'd disappeared into the bathroom were still resonating within her and Hermione didn't rightly know what to make of them.

The fact was that he _was_ growing on her.

Before the last few days, she'd still been of the opinion that Draco Malfoy was an arrogant, elitist toe-rag with practically no redeeming qualities whatsoever. To learn instead that he was a werewolf had been huge. To learn he could make her laugh was an even bigger surprise. He might've started this whole thing by trying to intimidate her, but things had definitely changed.

She kind of hated that the injections were at least partially to blame. On the one hand the injections were a blessing because it meant that parts of his personality he'd have kept hidden, potentially for years to come, were making themselves known. By causing them to be sexually attracted to one another, the injections meant that he was more flirtatious. More playful. More prone to admitting to things she felt certain he'd never have shared were his body not being tricked into believing he wanted to take her against every flat surface in sight.

She was beyond surprised to learn that he had a conscience. That he brewed potions to keep the hospitals of the wizarding world and probably a good number of the Apothecaries stocked too, was huge. She doubted he made money from doing so and it made sense that he would need something to do with his time when he was locked up inside the Manor and not allowed to leave. His other quirks were certainly amusing as well. Hermione found that she rather liked some of the little idiosyncrasies that being a werewolf had done for him.

She rather liked his habit of breathing in her scent as though she were some intoxicating aroma he couldn't get enough of. She enjoyed his habit of invading her personal space and touching her whenever he felt the urge to do so. She even liked his habit of nibbling on and licking at the little bite mark he'd left on her shoulder. She also enjoyed that he had admitted at the Manor that he sometimes still had trouble following the rules of society when he'd once lived a life far outside of them.

Not that she wanted her future husband participating in criminal activity, but she liked that he was brave enough to admit his flaws; that he hadn't tried to hide them from her.

Sighing, Hermione stood under the water of the shower, trying not to squirm at the feel of the rivulets as they raced across her skin. The water was twisted to pure cold, but despite that she still felt like the injection in her blood stirring her libido and driving her body to new heights of needs was making her hot. Malfoy's attention and then his refusal to continue tormenting her wasn't helping matters at all.

She frowned, he eyes still closed as she recalled that he'd stopped before bringing any kind of friction or relief to her lower region at all. Her nipples were still tingling from the feel of him toying with them and the place between her legs throbbed needily, aching to be filled. She wasn't complaining. She'd told him she didn't want to shag him until their wedding night and she meant it, even if she was currently horny enough to scream. She was grateful he'd accepted the idea and that he'd done what he could to respect her wishes. He'd told her that if he kept going, he would likely lose control and fuck her.

The truth was that if he'd kept going, Hermione would have let him and then their first time wouldn't have been special. She'd made a pact with the girls that they would all abstain from full intercourse until their wedding night, but the fact was that she did want it to be special. She was going to be married to Malfoy for the rest of her natural life. He would be her husband. He would be the father of the four children they were legally obligated to bring into this world. For the rest of her life, she would sleep with no one else but him. Every morning when she woke up, he would be there. When she went to bed at night, he would be beside her.

So, yes. She wanted the first time they had sex to be special. She wanted it to be when she was legally his wife. She didn't want it to be a result of being so high on what was essentially lust potion that she would tear all her clothes off and ravish him until neither of them could move. Biting her lip, Hermione tried to think about something else. This train of thought wasn't helping at all. She couldn't stop thinking about how he'd felt under her hands or the way his mouth had been so hot upon her breasts.

Whimpering, a little frown crossed her face as she slid down the wall of the shower to sit on the floor. There was no way she'd be able to go back to the Manor tonight and sleep beside him when she was this turned on. Not without practically begging him to ravish her.

Maybe if she….

Nibbling her bottom lip Hermione smoothed her hands over her sensitive skin, stimulating the already tingling flesh. She didn't even try to fight the fact that images of Malfoy and the feel of his hot mouth on her body filled her mind as she brought herself to completion.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

It hadn't helped much, Hermione decided almost an hour later when she apparated back to Malfoy Manor and found herself standing in Draco's bedroom. She'd been unable to bear the feel of her usual pyjamas against her skin and so she had donned the only thing she could find that she owned in the night-wear drawer that was sexy. The blue silk of her nightie brushed against her skin slightly. The laced trim tickled around her breasts and the skirt barely fell to mid-thigh.

She'd been unable to bear the idea of being so exposed in front of Malfoy, even if she had been in just her knickers before she'd left in the first place. Her white silk robe looked very much like it belonged in Malfoy Manor – one of the reasons she'd never worn it before today. It looked like something Narcissa might wear. Floor-length, elegant, trimmed with lace and made from the finest spun silk it was light-weight and warm, but designed with decadence and pleasure in mind.

When she apparated into his bedroom, Hermione had been expecting a number of things, but not the sight she was met with.

Draco Malfoy sat propped up in his bed under the silver silk sheets. He was shirtless as he reclined against the pillows and since he had the sheet strewn over his lap, Hermione had no idea if he wore anything underneath it. He reclined comfortably, looking like the embodiment of relaxation. He had one knee drawn up distractedly beneath the sheets and he had a book resting against that knee while he read from it as though he hadn't a care in the world.

Hermione eyed him, hating herself for thinking he looked all the sexier for the fact that he was sitting in bed and reading a book. It had always bugged her with Ron when they slept over that he would go to bed and either ravish her or fall immediately asleep. He never wanted to just sit in bed and read with her. He didn't even like reading. The idea that Malfoy was willingly and happily reading his own book while he waited for her to return made a part of her that she hadn't even realised existed until that moment, tingle and begin to melt in a most alarming manner.

"You're staring, wifey," Malfoy purred at her without lifting his eyes from his book and Hermione realised he was right. She was staring. She was also breathing raggedly and desperately trying to fight the urge to crawl up his body and into his lap, demanding he have his way with her that very instant.

No one had any right to look as good as Draco Malfoy did right then. Shirtless, in bed, reading a book and not even bothering to look up at her before addressing her presence in his bedroom. Hermione felt like she couldn't even think straight. Pleasuring herself hadn't helped at all. In fact, she felt like every orgasm she'd reached today had just made her hornier. And he looked so good that she was sure she might be able to find release just by standing there and watching him. That's how sensitive her body was and how heightened her need happened to be.

He turned the page lazily before tilting his head slightly and looking over at her. Vaguely, Hermione was aware of the way her night-gown revealed the expanse of her long, freshly-shaved legs. Of the way the silk pulled slightly across her breasts and the way the fabric was tickling her pebbled nipples beneath the gown. She was dimly aware that her cheeks were flushed pink, her hair was still damp but drying in a well-shagged sort of tangle, and her chest was heaving with each ragged breath she drew in.

Malfoy smirked at her slowly, his nostrils flaring to catch her scent. Hermione didn't doubt that he could smell her desire. Merlin, she hadn't even been able to put on knickers because the feel of the fabric against that part of her body had been too much. He didn't react beyond that, though his smirk grew even wider. Lupine gold flashed momentarily in his grey eyes before he squashed the wolf back down.

He clearly had a better grip on his self-control and they must have altered his dosage enough that though he still wanted her, he could resist the urge. Hermione wasn't sure if she should be relieved or heartbroken by the notion when she wanted to shag him so badly she was in danger of creating a puddle right there on his bedroom floor.

"How many times, Granger?" he asked of her, still speaking in that husky purr that made every part of her sit up and beg to be licked.

Hermione frowned at him in confusion, trying to make sense of his words when she felt like she was losing her mind.

"How many times did you bring yourself off since leaving here an hour ago?" he clarified.

Hermione felt herself being drawn to him as he spoke. Before she even realised what she was doing, she untied the sash holding her silk robe closed and allowed the fabric to slide down the length of her arms to puddle on the floor as she crossed the room.

She stepped up onto the end of the bed and began walking towards him.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, having lost count. It didn't even occur to her to be embarrassed to have him know she'd been masturbating.

His smirk widened as she padded up the length of the bed, placing her feet either side of his legs as she walked. He moved the book from his lap carefully, laying it face down to hold his page before dropping his knee. He reached for her with both hands, catching hold of her hips and pulling her down into his lap until she was straddling him. Hermione whimpered at the feel of just the silk sheet separating her core from the heat of his body.

"You're not wearing knickers," he purred huskily, his hands guiding her until she sat straddling the hot steel length of his body, pressing his hardness directly to her throbbing core. Hermione shook her head, her chest heaving with each ragged breath as she tried to control herself.

"You made it so much worse," he went on, "Did I forget to warn you that masturbation just makes the effects of the injection that much more intense?"

Hermione thought she might cry at the knowing tone in his voice and the wicked amusement on his face.

"The more you do it, the more you want it," he murmured, peering into her face hungrily while his hands controlled her hips, trapping her and holding her still to prevent her from rolling her core against his like she wanted to.

"But I want it really bad," Hermione whispered, staring at him and not even ashamed to admit that. She felt like she was out of her mind with lust. All she felt was need.

"How do you think I felt when you were sending me those dirty letters?" he retorted, "But I'm not going to give you what you want."

"Why not?" Hermione cried, feeling like she might actually burst into tears she wanted him so badly right then.

"Because it will only make you needier unless I fuck you. And we agreed that I won't be fucking you until our wedding night," his smirk widened even more, clearly amused by how badly she wanted him right then.

"But it's so far away," Hermione whined, leaning into him until she could bury her face against his neck, unable to resist the urge to breathe him in and to feel the warmth of his body against her.

His chuckle was pure sin.

"It is. Six nights, in fact," he agreed with her.

A sob caught in her throat at the very idea of waiting so long when she wanted him so badly now. She nipped his throat lightly, his hands like vices upon her hips to keep her from grinding upon him. The tight hold ought to have hurt, but Hermione was so needy that it felt good instead.

"I think they might've increased your dosage," he told her after a few minutes, his voice turning husky as he tried to hold her still while Hermione resorted to peppering kisses along the length of his throat, "Did you try a cold shower?"

"Yes," Hermione whimpered.

"Shit," Malfoy cursed, "Zeet?"

The elf appeared next to the bed with a pop and Hermione was too gone to care that anyone - even a house elf - might be seeing her in such a compromising position. She imagined that over the rest of her lifetime, the elves of Malfoy Manor would get used to seeing her in compromising positions. She'd be birthing Malfoy heirs, after all. What did a little foreplay matter when compared with potentially giving birth in this very house?

"Master?" Zeet asked.

"Can you bring me a Calming Draught and a Pain-Numbing Potion from my lab?" he asked, his voice tight when Hermione began nibbling on his earlobe.

Zeet disappeared with a pop only to return a few moments later.

"Here you is, master," Zeet gave the potions over.

Or tried to. The minute Draco let go of her with one hand to reach for the phials, Hermione found herself grinding herself against his erection and he loosed a feral growl, pushing the limits of his self-control. Hermione could see the way his eyes flooded gold once more.

"Um…" he bit out, "Zeet, I'm going to need you to dose her for me."

He gripped her hips even tighter, his claws threatening to tear the silky fabric of her gown.

"Is you sure, Master?" Zeet asked, sounding worried, "Zeet is not supposing to be drugging witches, master."

"If I let her go we're both going to lose control and I'm going to fuck her through the headboard, Zeet," Malfoy growled and Hermione whined low and needy with how much she wanted that particular threat to become her fate.

Zeet seemed to think it was a bad idea to have them breaking the headboard and possibly each other. Hermione wriggled in Malfoy's grip even more when the elf approached her, uncorking the phials.

"You is be needing to drink them, Mistress," Zeet told her, "You is not acting yourself because they is be giving you too much dosage at the hospital. Zeet must fix you."

Hermione bit the elf sharply when he resorted to sticking his fingers in her mouth to lever her jaw open before making her swallow the potions while she writhed and ground herself on Malfoy's erection through the thin strips of fabric separating their bodies.

"Maybe one for me too, Zeet?" Draco suggested, his voice gravelly with barely restrained need.

"Yes, Master," Zeet complied, sucking his abused finger into his mouth and eyeing Hermione reproachfully as he disappeared again.

The potion was fast acting in her system, flooding her senses and calming her racing heart, inducing the state of clam within her that it had been designed to do.

"If I let you go, are you going to grind on me again, Granger?" Malfoy asked her carefully when Zeet reappeared.

"No," Hermione whispered as the effect of the Pain-Numbing potion effectively distanced her mind from the over-stimulated senses in her body, numbing and dulling them to such a low level that she could think straight again.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice tight, "If I let you go again and you rub on me one more time, I'm literally going to fuck you right through the headboard."

"I'm in control," Hermione told him, lifting herself slightly until she wasn't touching him, her knees splayed either side of his hips and digging into the pillows.

"Shit," Malfoy cursed softly, releasing her slowly and accepting the phials of potion from Zeet. He drank them down quickly and Hermione made sure not to touch him until his eyes stopped glowing canine-gold.

"This is getting out of hand," Hermione told him when he looked like he was back in control of himself and when her heart had stopped racing quite so quickly, "Do you think everyone is being effected this much, or just us?"

"I think it's got to do with the lupine traces in your injections," he told her, his hands coming back up to rest on her hips intimately yet much more gently that before, "The animalistic, primal effect of my condition means we have to deal with animalistic, primal urges. That and we've not spent more than a few hours apart since the law was announced… My… um…"

He glanced up into her eyes for a moment, his fingers gently on her hips as he lowered her back down until she was sitting on his lap but not grinding on him.

"My wolf seems to have taken a liking to you," he muttered, glancing away as though the idea bothered him.

"Are you sure that's not the injections?" Hermione asked quietly, hesitantly bringing her hands up and carding her fingers through his silky blonde hair, "They're designed to make us crave each other. And some of the things they've put in it manufacture endorphins and pheromones that make us feel more comfortable with one another."

His mouth twisted slightly.

"They were right about a couple of things, Granger," he told her quietly, "The main one being that my metabolism burns through the injections faster than it's supposed to. I imagine this dosage will mean it affects me the way it's supposed to effect regular humans… but before they injected me this afternoon, the previous one had all but burned through my system. Trust me, my wolf's taken a definite liking to you."

He didn't look at her as he admitted to the idea and Hermione pursed her lips for a moment. She hated this. She hated not knowing how much of what she felt or craved was her own personal interest and what was manufactured by the injections.

"What makes you think so?" Hermione asked him quietly, still playing with his hair gently as she slowly relaxed into the feel of sitting on his lap.

"I couldn't explain it to you if I tried, wifey," he whispered, lifting his eyes to hers once more and giving her a small, lopsided smile that somehow made him look unbearably adorable and made a part of her quake and tremble strangely.

"You never know," Hermione disagreed, "I deal with werewolves pretty often through work. I know all about the feel of what's it's like to have a lycanthropic part of your soul living within you."

"The idiots you deal with don't constantly have the wolf awake, Granger," Draco shook his head slowly, "Twenty eight days out of the month, they're just regular wizards who get moody sometimes and who get a bit territorial about certain things. For me, the wolf is awake all the time. Right there looking out through my eyes."

"Does the wolf truly feel like a separate entity to you?" Hermione asked, "I mean I know there are some differences, but is it like having two souls in one body or…"

"It's like having a split personality disorder," Draco sighed, tipping his head back against the pillows and closing his eyes, "But not, at the same time. Maybe more like two sides of the same coin. The wolf is me, and I'm the wolf… but we're different too. Sometimes I feel like the wolfish part of me is as much a part of me as the human side. Things are simpler as the wolf. Like… as a human I'd never even discuss the idea of sniffing your clothing because that would be weird and uncomfortable and pretty creepy."

Hermione chuckled at the way he made a face though his eyes were closed.

"But the wolf part of me has no qualms incorporating the canine need to sniff everything into my daily life. And so it's a weird compromise every time I do things like that between realising how abnormal and socially unacceptable they might be, and yet doing them anyway because it feels good or satisfies my curiosity. It's a constant battle between social conditioning and primal instinct," he explained quietly, "And I'm ashamed to say that after spending five years cooped up with mostly just my parents for company, primal instinct tends to win out more often than not."

"So then what makes you so sure that the wolfish part of you likes me?" Hermione wanted to know, "And don't say something like that I smell good, because the injections are effecting me to make me smell good to you."

"You do smell good," he said, his hands leaving her hips and moving to stroke up and down the length of her back, pressing just enough to encourage her to lean into the warmth of his bare chest.

Hermione trailed her fingers from his hair and down the pale expanse of his chest, noting the many scars littering his torso. She found herself curling into him, burying her nose against his collarbone and breathing in his lemon and caramel scent with relish.

"But it's not just that you smell good," he told her, "You… you work to accommodate the needs of the wolf without denying it or being pitying about it. You just go with it, whilst encouraging me to remember not to act like a complete animal all the time. The wolf – the part of me that's more than just lycanthropic traits; the part that I have to keep chained to keep from wearing fangs and claws all the time – that part of me wants you. Not just wants to fuck you but… I don't know. Wants to mark you. Wants to protect you. That's the part of me that has me snatching you out of the way when a rampaging Pansy is about to barge into you or some enraged wizard is about to start a duel. And I like that you don't get fussy about it."

"I do fuss about it," Hermione argued, "I make you keep your hands in appropriate places on my person when in front of company."

"Yeah, but you also give me your food even when you're not finished eating it," he pointed out, "You weren't done with your dinner when we were at the pub with Blaise and the Weaselette, but you gave it to me anyway."

"You were hungrier than I was," Hermione shrugged her shoulder, cuddling into him snugly and enjoying the feeling of just being held. She could still feel the heat and the pressure and the steely length of his erection against her core as she straddled him, but the potion she'd taken meant she could think about other things.

"Yeah, that's kind of the point, wifey," Draco told her softly, "I knew the wolf liked you when I offered you some of my breakfast the other day even though I was still starving. That was the first time I've offered to share anything of mine with anyone else…. Ever."

Hermione almost didn't believe her ears at his words. Surely he'd shared things before?

"I know what you're thinking," he chuckled, as though he could feel her disbelief. Maybe he could smell it? "You're thinking I couldn't possibly have reached twenty-one years of age without sharing something before. Try to keep in mind that I'm the spoiled, rich, selfish bastard of a pureblood heir. I'm practically royalty within pureblood circles. Or I was until the war. My parents and my friends treated me like a prince and I didn't share anything. Ever. The rest of my friends all had their own crap, whatever they wanted, and I don't have siblings to be forced to share with."

"Well, not yet anyway," Hermione muttered.

"I'm really trying not to think about the idea that I will likely end up with some, Granger," he told her, his hands still stroking up and down the length of her back in a way that almost made her want to drift right off to sleep.

"You realise that if your mother gets pregnant again in the next few months, you'll likely have siblings the same age as our children, right?" Hermione asked, still unsure how she felt about the idea, "They'll end up raised like they're all siblings instead of them being the aunts and uncles of your sons or daughters."

"Uncles," he muttered, "The little brats will be uncles to my sons."

"You do realise the statistical likelihood of conceiving boys or girls is a fifty percent chance either way, don't you? There's no guarantee that you or your father will only throw more male offspring," Hermione argued.

Malfoy began shuffling down in the bed, his hands leaving her back to press against her knees until she straightened her legs. The minute she did, Draco slipped down the length of the silk sheets until he was reclining on his back. He fished the tangled sheet strewn across his legs out from under her before pulling it over both of them. All without allowing her to crawl off of him.

"In the muggle world, that might be true," Draco scoffed at her, "But you're in the magical world, Granger. And old pureblood families stay old and pure and carry on their namesake by throwing sons. There hasn't been a daughter born to the Malfoy line in nine generations. I hardly think we're going to start now."

"That may be, but those circumstances were true whilst under the limitation of each generation only birthing one child per generation. It's not so very hard to ensure only boys when you have one child per generation."

"Look at the Weasleys then, little miss smarty-pants. They hadn't conceived a girl until the Weaslette was born for the last seven generations. And each Weasley son had at least three children per generation. In the magical world, it's about the line, see? Families like mine or the Weasleys statistically throw boys. Families like the Blacks, the Crabbes, the Bulstrodes; they statistically throw more girls. Still not a great deal of them, mind you. In that regard they're almost equal in the boy to girl ratio. But such long and uninterrupted lines of magical breeding sets the bloodline in its way. If my mother manages to conceive again at all, given how much trouble she had conceiving and carrying me to term, it'll be a surprise."

Hermione nibbled her lips as she let her eyes close slowly, stretching out on top of Malfoy and snuggling into his warmth.

"As for you," he said, tipping his head slightly and pressing a kiss to the end of her nose as though it were the most natural thing in the world, "If you conceive the first Malfoy daughter born in ten generations, I'm not sure if I'll be proud or horrified that you'll mean the end of an era for the Malfoy line in more ways than one."

Hermione hummed, unusually amused by the idea, knowing she was already an end to their pureblood era. Knowing it was likely she could bring about an end to their long line of breeding only sons.

"Well," Hermione whispered in return, as she turned her head and pressed a kiss to his collarbone, "We've got at least four tries to rid your family of its purity, it's prejudice and its status as a purely paternal line."

"You know they're likely to be the four best fucks of your life, right?" he asked, and Hermione could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"If I'm stuck with you for the rest of my life and I only get four good fucks out of it, I might maim you, Draco Malfoy," Hermione threatened.

He started to laugh then and Hermione blinked her eyes open to watch him do it. He kept his own eyes closed, looking very much like he meant to fall asleep with her draped over him like a blanket. But even with them closed, the laughter transformed the sharp, pointed lines of his handsome face. It softened his expression into something else. Something that almost took her breath away.

"I didn't say they'd be the only four good ones, wifey," he chuckled, "Just that they'd be the four best. You know nothing at this stage, I imagine, about magical conception and how it works."

"You do realise who you're talking to, don't you?" Hermione deadpanned in response.

He laughed again.

"Yeah," he smirked, "I do. But trust me Granger, you don't know anything about magical conception when it comes to the Malfoy line."

Hermione eyed him, wondering what he meant by that. Waiting for him to continue.

He didn't.

"You're not going to explain, are you?" Hermione asked when he fell silent once more, a small smile playing on his face as he teased his fingers through her messy curls.

"Nope," he replied smugly, "But six nights from now, I'm going to show you."

Hermione quivered with anticipation over the very idea.


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N: So I'm a little later than I'd have liked - my muse went spastic and wouldn't let me focus - but it's finally here. I'm a bit late, but Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to those of you who celebrate such things. I wish each and every one of you the very best in the New Year (can't come faster enough, can it?) I hope you like this chapter. Much love! xx-Kitten**

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**Howl for Me**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 22**

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"Hermione, are you ready to go?" Ginny called from down the hall late in the afternoon on the following day, "We're supposed to be there by seven."

"I'm ready," Hermione called back, glancing in the mirror one last time before rolling her eyes at her reflection.

If she was being honest, she wasn't overly thrilled by the idea of attending the hen's party.

"You can stay with me, if you'd prefer not to go," Draco offered valiantly from where he was reclining on her bed and watching her as she fussed with the hem of her purple cocktail dress, trying to get it to sit right. She'd already wasted a good twenty minutes trying to charm her hair into cooperating, to little avail. Worse, the minute she'd gotten it to something she was vaguely happy with, Malfoy had tunnelled his fingers into the wild curls and messed them up whilst being a little too overzealous in his intent to leave as many lovebites on her neck and shoulders as possible – all of them visible while she wore the dress she'd chosen for the evening.

He'd been relegated to the bed and scolded to keep his hands to himself if he wasn't going to help her tame the mess she passed off as hair. And he was pouting about it. Hermione had never met a grown man who pouted as much as the one she was expected to marry – not even Harry or Ron (which really was saying something). Of course, even when he pouted, he looked very much like a grumpy puppy and more than once already, she'd found her process of preparing for the evening thrown of schedule because of the irresistible urge she'd had to walk over to him and ruffle his hair or snuggle into his arms. She'd also had to spend an extra ten minutes already using bruise salve, healing charms and glamours trying to conceal the number of love-bites he'd given her that morning when she'd woken with him wrapped around her possessively while they slept.

The oxytocin the Ministry had been putting into their injections seemed to have well and truly kicked in once the initial aphrodisiacs wore off and she'd been finding herself being extremely touchy-feely with him. Not to mention that she'd been getting fonder of him by the second – something that rather entirely unnerved her because she didn't want to get fond of him this way. Certainly she'd been thinking about the idea that it would be nice for them to build affection and intimacy in order to more effectively cohabitate and co-parent, when the time came. But she didn't want chemically induced affection. She'd been thinking entirely too much that she wanted the real thing and she'd begun worrying that when the injection eventually stopped being given to married couples, they would all find themselves thinking they'd been living a lie and 'falling out of love' and end up resenting one another all the more.

As such, Hermione felt very torn between the urge to constantly invade his space and snuggle up to Malfoy, whilst also wanting to fight the urges induced by the injections in case they one day woke up, ten years from now, loathing each other all over again.

"No, I can't," Hermione retorted, meeting his gaze in the mirror, knowing she couldn't skip the hen's night. Ginny would kill her, for one. And for another, she wanted some time away from him to find out just how much of her reaction to him was the injection and the continual time spent together since the law had been announced.

"Yes, you can," he replied, "As you've already pointed out, I'm pretty much a hermit. You can be too. I won't complain."

"You always complain," Hermione retorted, "About everything."

"Not everything," he smirked at her, raking his eyes over her before settling them appreciatively on her arse.

"I'm going to the party. It was suggested in the first place by _your_ friends. If we're all getting married together and we're all going to have to tolerate one anther because they're all marrying _my_ friends, it makes sense for us all to become friends too," Hermione reminded him, "And don't you dare come over here if you're intending to leave more love-bites on me, Malfoy."

"If you'd stop removing them and healing them or hiding them, I'd stop putting more on your skin," he retorted, getting off the bed and crossing to where she stood in front of the mirror clearly unable to stand being out of reach of her for more than a few minutes.

"I made a deal with the rest of the girls not to sleep with you until the day of the wedding," Hermione reminded him, "If I'm covered in love-bites, they'll never believe I haven't shagged you yet."

"You made a deal with me that everything else was fair game," he retorted, wrapping himself around her from behind and skimming his nose the length of her neck and over her exposed shoulders, breathing in her scent.

He growled very softly, almost a purr, before pressing a line of kisses over the top of her shoulder and the bite mark that was fast becoming a scar. Hermione found herself subconsciously tipping her head to one side, her eyelids lowering to half-mast as she continued to watch him. She might've covered the love bites he'd been giving her, but she'd left the claiming mark on her shoulder bare for him and everyone else to see.

"You're going to make me late," Hermione whispered, her heart beating faster when he licked at the bite before nipping it gently with his teeth, not hard enough to break the skin, just enough to make her whole body throb with desire.

After yesterday's overwhelming urge to ravish him and the subsequent potions needed to keep them in control of themselves, today had been spent with him trying to pull her into his lap whenever he could manage it. They'd moved most of her things into Malfoy Manor as well, packing things into boxes and carting them all over. Crookshanks had been less than thrilled by his new lodgings and Malfoy had laughed when the cat proceeded to shred the drapes in the bedroom Hermione had sternly informed the cat he was to use for sleeping in unless he wanted Draco to eat him.

Crookshanks had yowled at Draco and charged him threateningly as though thinking he could frighten Malfoy into letting him sleep in the bedroom, or at the very least, call his bluff on the idea of being eaten. The cat had run away from Draco with his tail in the air and his fur standing on end when Draco had shifted his eyes and his fangs and lunged at the cat in return, snarling ferociously and scaring the wits out of poor Crookshanks. Hermione had felt a little bit bad, and been given the evil eye by her cat, when she'd giggled at the exchange.

"I could snarl at them all to keep them from telling you off for your tardiness, if you like?" Draco offered, his lips still tracing her skin hotly as he tried, once again, to keep her from going out the with the girls when she could instead be in his arms and enjoying his touch – something, she'd been assured, that would be much more enjoyable than spending and evening with Pansy, Tracy, Daphne and Millicent.

"You just want to see Millicent wet her pants," Hermione chided, eyeing her fiancé in the mirror and feeling a throb of desire pulse through her hotly.

"It would certainly be a sight," he chuckled cruelly in agreement.

"What are you going to do while I'm gone?" Hermione asked him, sliding her fingers against his to hold his hand as he held her close.

"Might go home and torment your cat," Draco shrugged, still chuckling.

"He'll retaliate," Hermione warned, "You'll likely go home to find him shedding on your pillow or pooping in your closet."

"Beast," Draco muttered, "If he pisses me off, I reserve the right to eat him."

"You're not going to eat my cat," Hermione scolded him, scowling at him in the mirror.

"I will if he annoys me," Draco retorted.

"Just go home and brew your potions or something, would you?" Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'm officially late for stupid party and you're distracting me. Again."

"I'm a delightful distraction," he replied, shrugging and smirking wickedly at her, "I could distract you some more, if you want?"

Hermione was in danger of giving in when Ginny pounded on her bedroom door before flinging it open and barging into the room. Draco growled at the other witch in annoyance,

"Are you coming or am I going to have to get a leash him and tie him up to get you free of his grabby little paws?" Ginny demanded hotly whilst glaring at Draco. Hermione felt Draco tense against her back over the deliberate use of canine references designed to irk him.

"I'm coming," Hermione replied.

"You'll be screaming that phrase on our wedding night," Draco whispered into her ear wickedly and Hermione felt a blush flood her cheeks even as her knickers dampened.

"So will you," Hermione retorted before stepping out of his hold to the sound of another low growl, "Let's go, Ginny."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"You're joking," Millicent Bulstrode asserted an hour later when Ginny dragged the already tipsy ladies of their extensive bridal party to a lingerie store.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Ginny challenged, raising one eyebrow.

"Ginny, I can't be seen in something like… this," Angelina blurted out in protest.

"You can," Ginny assured her, "In fact, I know someone who would very much like to see you dressed in something just like this. Come on, we're going in and that's final. No one leaves until we've all bought something, so get your checkbooks ready, ladies."

"I hope you don't actually expect all of us to buy something like this with the intention of wearing it for our court-ordered grooms," Pansy sneered.

Hermione glanced at the dark haired, pug-nosed witch with narrowed eyes.

"I hope you don't intend to continue being a bitch for the length of time I'll have to put up with you as my sister-in-law," Ginny retorted, a few gin-and-tonics into the evening already and only too willing to speak her mind.

"Oh, I'm the bitch?" Pansy challenged, rolling her eyes, "Excuse me for not swooning over the idea of marrying some pathetic, derelict ginger who'll likely develop a drinking problem before we're thirty."

"What, exactly is you problem, Pansy?" Daphne Greengrass demanded of the other witch. She'd been dragged into their bridal party by Millicent after being paired with Theodore Nott and had made herself at home among the other witches with ease.

"I'm stuck with an idiot?" Pansy suggested.

"You're being a sour little brat pouting over nonsense," Daphne corrected the witch and Hermione was thinking that of all the Slytherin girls among Draco's female friends, she was liking Daphne the best so far, "You and I know for a fact that while you never intended to be married, you could do a lot worse than Ronald Weasley."

"I don't see how," Pansy replied acidly before stalking into the store.

"Well…" Angelina snorted after several long beats of silence in Pansy's wake, "Who else is looking forward to having her for a sister-in-law?"

Ginny, Fleur and a witch named Audrey who'd been paired with Percy Weasley all looked uncomfortable.

"I promise she's not actually as awful as she's currently acting," Millicent offered quietly, "She just…"

The witch trailed off, looking like she wanted to explain but didn't know how.

"She's been nursing a crush on Weasley since fourth year," Tracy spoke up, "And she got her nose extremely out of joint when we all hit dating age and he blatantly ignored her whenever she tried to get his attention before dating Lavender Brown and then you, Hermione. The idea of marrying him now – by court order – after spending so long trying to quell her crush on him is obviously making her defensive about whatever feelings she still harbours for him."

"She called my brother derelict," Ginny grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and looking annoyed about the slight on a member of her family.

"Keep in mind that while she might be very up to date with the gossip columns, she doesn't exactly pay much attention to the world around her," Tracy sighed, "Pansy probably has no idea what sort of income Ronald makes or what he spends his money on. She's simply regurgitating the number of lines she's been telling herself for years in an attempt to outgrow her feelings."

"You realise that Ron isn't derelict, right?" Hermione asked mildly, raising one eyebrow at the other witches, "I mean, I'm not saying he has the type of money that some of you probably grew up with in those pureblood vaults of yours, but he's very far from derelict."

"Of course he is," Tracy nodded, "I think she's just terrified she'll end up like your mother, Ginny. And don't be offended by my saying that. I mean it in the sense that she fears she'll end up in a renovated, cramped house that keeps needing extra rooms added to it when she inevitably gets pregnant again. And that she thinks she'll end up trying to feed the git until he's the size of a house because she'll thrive on the praise he'll likely give her if she cooks something he likes. I think she's worried she'll actually end up with more children than your mother."

"You think Ron will want seven children?" Ginny asked, startled.

"Doesn't he?" Millicent asked.

Everyone looked towards Hermione rather than Ginny to answer that particular question. Hermione eyed them all for a long moment in dubious silence.

"We're all obligated to have a minimum of four," she reminded them in an even tone, "I will say, however, that Ron may or may not have made mention of the notion that should having numerous children effectively keep Pansy out of his hair, he'd be willing to sire a small army of children."

Tracy began to laugh while Millicent giggled. Ginny looked surprised, and then amused. Angelina was chuckling to herself while Hannah and Luna both looked intrigued.

"He may or may not have also recently purchased a six bedroom home with a spacious back garden and plenty of room to grow," Hermione went on mildly, "Though I'm sure he'd appreciate it if you could all keep that information to yourselves, given that he intends to first scare Pansy into believing that she will be moving into the flat he and Harry have been sharing since they left Hogwarts."

A peel of laughter escaped Millicent at the very idea.

"He's going to torment her for being such a snob, isn't he?" Tracy smirked.

"Oh, yes," Hermione smirked wickedly in return, "Yes, Pansy Parkinson will be in for a rather rude awakening in the form of the Weasley sense of humour if she doesn't sort out that wretched attitude of hers. And I, for one, am going to very much enjoy watching it unfold."

"Me too," Ginny declared, "Now, let's all get inside and buy something terribly racy to please our intended wizards, shall we?"

With that said, the redhead flounced into the store, the rest of them following in her wake.


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm so thrilled so many of you are still loving this fic. Sorry for the delay in updates. The muse is currently on board, though, so fingers crossed it stays that way and this gets finished in a more timely fashion. *laughs hysterically* **

**Shout out to four of my fave readers for this fic! Abbi, Brooke, Jess H and Melissa! You know I love you all to death. Hope you love the newest chapter. **

**Much love! xx-Kitten.  
**

* * *

**Howl for Me**

_By Kittenshift17  
_

* * *

**Chapter 23**

* * *

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Hannah Abbott gasped when, almost an hour later - the lot of them significantly more sloshed that they'd been upon entering the lingerie store – Hermione swept free of the changing room wearing deep blue bustier and matching lacy knickers.

Hermione didn't know how many wines they'd had before the little fashion show of modelling the pieces they all liked had begun, but she was feeling truly tipsy as she sashayed out in her favourite one.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking down at herself to make sure she hadn't put anything on backwards.

"Is that a love bite on your shoulder, Hermione Granger?" Daphne Greengrass spoke up, giggling as she hurried over for a closer look.

Hermione paled, her hands searching her skin frantically for the mark. Blast Draco for his inability to keep his lips and his hands off of her for more than five minutes!

"It is!" Hannah squealed when Hermione found it and clapped a hand over it. "Hermione, you naughty girl! You've been letting Draco maul you!"

Hermione's cheeks flushed crimson at the teasing and the laughter that followed.

"It's not what you think," she protested, waving her hands to placate them all.

"Really?" Millicent asked, raising one eyebrow. "Because I think you've been letting Draco into you knickers and enjoying every second of it, if that guilty gleam in your eyes is any indication."

"I… We made a pact that no one would actually engage in intercourse until the wedding," Hermione replied, mortified when the girls all cheered again.

"I made no such pact!" Ginny protested, frowning at her.

"Broken down Zabini's defences and ravished him already, Ginny?" Angelina laughed, teasing the girl.

"I… That's hardly the point. We never made a pact, Hermione. I'd never have agreed to put myself through the torture of waiting until the bloody wedding. Not with those injections they're pumping into us."

"Oh, aren't they awful?" Tracy said. "Honestly, they make me squirm so much that I need to change my knickers every time I look at Potter. I'm literally running out of underwear."

Ginny began to laugh.

"Just wait until you're letting him into your underwear, Davis," Ginny laughed. "I don't know where you usually shop for your knickers, but if you buy expensive ones, I'd recommend changing your shopping preferences."

"What?" Tracy asked, looking intrigued. "Why?"

"Let's just say that Harry Potter has a particularly bad habit of getting impatient with the time it take to strip a girl out of her fancy knickers," Ginny smirked. "The number of nice pairs that boy ruined of mine made me want to throttle him. I swear, for the length of time I was dating him, I stopped bloody wearing the silly things because I'd have gone broke buying more!"

"He ripped you out of your knickers?" Tracy began to laugh. "More than once?"

"Every time," Ginny nodded, sipping more wine and parading around in a lacy green baby-doll with a matching thong, apparently not caring that the others could see her bum. "The man's a menace. If I were you, I'd be looking in the crotchless-panty section because if he can't get at you when he wants to, he _will_ rip the knickers out of his way."

The girls all hooted and cheered at the idea, and Hermione blushed to learn such a thing about a boy she thought of like her own brother.

"Well that's… promising," Tracy smirked before sauntering in that direction.

"Got any tips for Pansy, Hermione?" Daphne asked. "What really gets Weasley's blood pumping, eh?"

Hermione glanced over at the pug-nosed witch, scanning the girl with her eyes carefully. She was currently dressed in a faux leather garter skirt and a wet-look leather bra. Biting her bottom lip thoughtfully, she sauntered a little closer to the raven haired witch. Pansy eyed her defensively, looking ready to spit spiteful words.

"With boobs like that," Hermione mused, circling the witch carefully. "You want something like a peek-a-boo bra. Maybe a deep navy or purple. Never Red. Ron _loathes_ red underwear, don't ask me why. It's a very embarrassing story. Rest assured he'll never ask you to wear red knickers."

Pansy looked surprised both by the comment about her boobs and about the mention of the story Hermione didn't intend to share.

"Let's see. Do you feel comfortable wearing a thong, Pansy?" Hermione asked, eyeing the girl.

"I…" Pansy glanced around, watching the way the rest of the girls in their party were all eyeing her, obviously waiting for her to be rude to Hermione. "I haven't really got the arse for it."

Hermione circled her once more.

"Show me," she said. "Your skirt-thing is in the way."

"I'm not going to show you my arse, Granger?"

"Why not?" Daphne asked, also circling Pansy, apparently having taken a liking to Hermione and intrigued to hear her opinion. That, or she was planning to play peace-keeper if things got testy between Hermione and Pansy.

"You know how I feel about my…" Pansy began hotly while Daphne flipped her skirt up to reveal her arse.

Hermione eyed her speculatively, understanding what she perceived the problem to be. She had an impressively perky bust and boobs that would fill out a man's hand nicely. Her arse, on the other hand, while toned, was decidedly bigger and rounder. She clearly dressed to hide it, because Hermione had never noticed before.

"Daphne!" Pansy said, yanking on the skirt to hide her bum once more.

"You're worried he'll think your arse is too big," Hermione surmised.

"Obviously _you_ do," Pansy said, curling her lip.

"I think you and I might need to have a little chat, Pansy," Hermione said seriously, moving back around in front of the witch. "Would you mind moving over here with me for a second?"

Pansy looked surprised by her lack of hostility.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because I'm going to tell you something about your intended husband that I know he wouldn't like everyone to know about," Hermione said evenly.

"Are you going to let me return to the favour and offer you 'advice' on what Draco likes in the bedroom?" Pansy sneered, obviously trying to taunt her with the notion of having shagged Draco when Hermione hadn't.

"If you'd like," Hermione shrugged. "Have you shagged him since he became a werewolf?"

Pansy's cheeks flushed.

"Once," she admitted, letting Hermione lead her away from the other girls, all of them easily distracted in their drunken state when Luna wandered out of the dressing room wearing a particularly sheer leopard-print matching bra and pantie set, practically naked before them all given how see-through the fabric was.

"Did he hurt you?" Hermione asked of Pansy, turning her attention to the raven-haired witch who'd been a complete shrew all night.

"Yes," Pansy whispered. "But only because he knows I… um…"

"You like being a little bit hurt in the bedroom?" Hermione asked, her lips twitching.

"I hardly see how that's your business. What are you wanting to tell me that's so secretive?" Pansy demanded, going on the defensive again.

"Ron's going drool when he sees your arse," Hermione told the other witch quietly, pulling her a little further away, over to the section with peek-a-book bras and ferreting through the rack, holding a few up in front of Pansy.

"Um… Why?" Pansy asked and Hermione got the feeling, looking at the witch right then, that she was particularly self-conscious about her figure, particularly her arse. She was hour-glass shaped, Hermione noted, with a little more 'time' on her arse than her chest. She obviously worked-out often to keep herself in shape too, but she was still insecure.

"Ronald Weasley is an arse-man," Hermione told her. "Do you understand what I mean?"

Pansy nodded. "Draco's a leg's man," she replied, glancing down at Hermione's long, toned legs indicatively.

"You're self-conscious over your arse, aren't you? Because no matter how many squats you do, it's just a bit too round to fit into a pencil skirt without making you look like you belong on a stage, dancing with a pole for singles."

"Are Gryffindors always this blunt?" Pansy drawled, frowning.

"Yes, Ron even more so than me," Hermione smiled at her. "Now, if you could stop interrupting me, I'll tell you why Ron's going to drool when he sees your arse. You said you like being hurt in the bedroom a little, right?"

"I…" Pansy blushed, looking down and taking the three bras Hermione was handing her.

"Only, I hope so because when Ron sees your arse in all its glory, he's going to spank you. Repeatedly. He bites, too," Hermione confided in the girl. "He's going to drop things on purpose around the house just to watch you bend over and pick them up. If you let him, he'll perpetually have at least one hand on your arse at all times – two, when he can spare them."

"What are you saying?" Pansy asked, looing surprised and a little bit amused. "You let him… spank you?"

"Have you ever been spanked?" Hermione asked her seriously.

"I… when I was a child and I did something very naughty once I got a spank…" Pansy blushed.

"But never sexually?" Hermione confirmed. "It's… surprisingly cathartic. Every now and then there was nothing quite like being pulled into his lap, flipped upside-down and thoroughly spanked, actually. Don't give me that wide eyed look, we're both grown women and there's nothing wrong with admitting that a sharp sting every now and then feels divine."

"He… what did he use?" Pansy asked, leaning in a little bit, looking curious and concerned at the same time.

"He only ever used his hand with me," Hermione shrugged. "I wasn't a huge fan of it all that often, and I haven't got an arse like yours."

She turned, pointing indicatively to her pert but rather small arse. Pansy Parkinson was taller than her, and a little more buxom. Hermione herself was petite, all long legs, small breasts and proportionate bum.

"You don't have much to work with," Pansy agreed. "Though some of those cheeky-cut knickers like the ones Hannah is wearing would likely drive Draco nuts since they make your legs look even longer."

Hermione smiled slowly, realising that with a few wines in her and some of her defensiveness forgotten to make way for curiosity, Pansy wasn't as bad as she'd seemed.

"I'll have to pick some up. Do you have a colour recommendation?"

"Nothing green," Pansy said, eyeing her critically. "It's not your colour. Leave greens for Ginny. You need warm colours; browns, golds, reds. Autumn shades. Though purples and blues seem to suit you too."

Hermione grinned.

"Now, as I was saying. He only used his hands with me, but he did ask me once if I'd be open to the idea of him using something else. With a bum like yours, he's going to want to do all manner of things to you," Hermione told the witch. "Just… never wear red knickers."

"Why?" Pansy frowned. "I look good in red, when I deign to wear it."

Hermione looked around carefully, wondering if she should share.

"When Ron and I first got together I wore red knickers under my skirt on our first official date. Anyway, we were getting pretty hot and heavy later in the evening, on the way home, and I was… erm…"

"On the rag?" Pansy guessed.

"No, no. Just… excitable. For want of a more delicate description, wet. And he stuck his hands under my skirt, seeing the red knickers and then feeling the wetness and he panicked and _thought_ I was on my period and kind of freaked out a little. It was hilarious, looking back on it, but it kind of ruined red knickers from then on."

Pansy began to laugh at the very idea.

"What about bras?" she asked

"Red bras and tops are fine," Hermione nodded. "But try to avoid red knickers and red pants or skirts whenever possible. Ron will literally blush the entire time you wear them."

Pansy seemed to find that notion hilarious.

"Granger?" she asked when she restrained her giggling while Hermione began handing the girl a number of thongs, cheeky-cut and even arse-less knickers to try on.

"Hmmm?" Hermione hummed, drinking more of her wine.

"Is… I know I've been a right bitch about all this, and I'm not thrilled at the idea of being paired with Weasley but… is he… what's he like as a partner?"

Hermione looked over at the girl when Pansy fished a purple lace corset with matching knickers from the shelf and offered it to Hermione to try on. She thought about it carefully for a long moment.

"Honestly? Sometimes he's a headache. He's stubborn and he's got a huge chip on his shoulder – an urge to prove himself as good enough with so many accomplished big brothers. Having Harry for his best friends doesn't help, either. Sometimes he'll drive you mental with his insecurities. He can be possessive and jealous if he thinks you might prefer someone else over him. He has some of the worst manners in the world; chewing with his mouth open, talking over the top of you, generally being a bit tactless and insensitive. There will be times when you'll want to hex him stupid."

Pansy looked worried, frowning deeply before Hermione smiled softly.

"But that's all the bad things. The good things outweigh the bad with Ron, without question. He's funny, though sometimes his sense of humour is a little mean-spirited. He's blunt. If he doesn't like what you're wearing, he'll tell you. Don't ever ask him if something makes you look fat unless you want the absolute truth, because he'll tell you if it does. But he's kind. If you're good to him and you win his loyalty, he'll do anything for you. He'll go out of his way to make you happy if he knows what to do _to_ make you happy – sometimes you do have to be blunt and outright _tell_ him what you want, but if he knows and it's possible, he'll do it for you.

"He's easily pleased, too. Most of the time. A good meal and an extra piece of dessert can change his mood from vindictively spiteful to being sweet as a kitten. He's about the little things in life, you know? He's affectionate, too. He'll pull you into bed next to him and cuddle you all morning until his grumbling stomach gets the best of him. He's very much a hands-on kind of wizard. Put your feet in his lap when he's talking about Quidditch and you'll get the best foot rub of your life. Let him ramble about Quidditch and nod along enough to fake that you're listening and he'll talk your ear off about it before realising he's monopolised the conversation. I loved those times because he'd feel bad for making me sit through a topic I find boring and so he'd let me enthral him with the latest research the magical world is doing into time-travel, or on some new healing potion, or about some new creature discovered in Burma that needs classifying. He listens best with a full stomach, so keep him well-fed and he'll be happy."

"He'll end up the size of a house," Pansy protested.

"Watching him eat, you'd think so," Hermione laughed. "But he likes to go running most nights. Don't be alarmed if he slips out of the house after dinner and disappears for two hours. He runs a _long_ way most days. He's a Quidditch nut and _will_ try to drag you to every league game he can get tickets for. He'll look after you, if you let him. Not in the sense of lavishing you with trinkets or gifts like you're probably used to. Ron hates collecting junk – unless it's Quidditch memorabilia – so don't expect lots of presents. He _does_ like to bring home flowers – usually filched from the gardens of muggles whose houses he runs by. He'll go out of his way to protect you too. He'll hover to make sure you're warm enough and he'll drive you batty trying to make sure you've had enough to eat because, and I quote '_how can you possibly eat so little and not die?'_"

Pansy was staring at her now.

"Are you still in love with him, or something?" she asked, looking defensive all over again.

"Yes," Hermione shrugged. "A part of me always will be, but we broke up for a reason and we'd not have made it back together, no matter how he might've suggested we could've. We were too different. I'm too…"

"Bossy?" Pansy suggested, raising one eyebrow.

"Well, I can be," Hermione frowned a little. "No, Ron and I didn't work out because we're too different in what we want out of life. Ron's always wanted fame and to be in the spotlight, but when he gets it, he panics and doesn't know what to do with it. He's gotten used to it, since the war, but he still gets terribly nervous and sabotages himself sometimes. I'm not like that. I've never wanted lots of money or fame, or to be in the spotlight."

"Good luck marrying a Malfoy, then," Pansy snorted.

"They're hardly in the spotlight locked away in Malfoy Manor," Hermione waved her hand.

"Yeah, now," Pansy said. "But Draco's probation will be up soon and he won't be on house arrest anymore. Lucius and Narcissa still have a while longer to go, but this wedding being held in their home and these marriages will fling them back into the spotlight, Granger. Narcissa will make sure of it. In recent years she's not bothered trying to host balls or anything because the stigma around that house was so terrible. But with time, and with the weddings, that will change. And if they can't leave, they'll invite everyone to come to them. They throw the best and most lavish parties. You're about to be hurled into the spotlight even more than you already are as the brains of the Golden Trio."

"I don't know," Hermione said contemplatively as they both moved towards the dressing rooms to try on the things they'd picked up. "With their lycanthropy, they don't seem as keen on being in the spotlight. Draco admitted to enjoying being a hermit and suggested I join him as one."

"Oh, Draco's a hermit," Pansy nodded, laughing suddenly. "At school he might've been all about wanting to direct the attention away from Potter and onto himself, but he's much too selfish and much too indulged by Narcissa and Lucius to care for the opinions of others. He loathes fancy balls and things because he has to play nice and mind his tongue to keep from offending the guests. If he could, he'd stay locked up in that Manor forever. He whines about being locked up inside it now, but that's because he's forgotten the wretchedness of a ball and the stuffiness of such functions.

"Draco's more interested in brewing his potions, reading his books and indulging in whatever takes his fancy than he is in interacting with others. He's selfish. And I'm a hypocrite for saying so, but as a boyfriend he was always selfish. You'll have to put up with how whiny he can be, and how temperamental he is, and how bloody infuriating he is. He's going to drive you batty, Granger. And I'm not even talking about the quirks that will come of his being a werewolf. Draco's what I refer to as a niggler. He finds something small that he knows irritates you and he does it continuously. He niggles and he picks and he taunts and annoys until you snap. He enjoys making other people lose control, both inside the bedroom and out of it."

Hermione nodded. She'd expected as much from her interactions with him and from what she recalled of him from before the war.

"It makes him feel more in control if he makes others lose their temper or makes them cry. He's incredibly selfish and often very self-centred, too. He _never_ thinks about how something might affect someone unless it's to consider how angry they might grow when he's trying to rile them up. When we dated he was… I want to say oblivious, but it feels like the wrong word. He wasn't oblivious to my feelings so much as that he manipulated how I felt to make me feel like crap. He'd do the very things I asked him not to do, or he'd do something to make me feel two feet tall if he thought I was getting too comfortable in my status as his girlfriend. If I annoyed him, he was ruthlessly vindictive. Draco is…"

Pansy paused, biting her lip for a moment and looking down at her feet.

"He's a very mean person, Granger. He's spiteful. If you upset him, he'll let you know it, but not at the time. I always hated that the most. If I put a foot out of line with him, he wouldn't talk to me about it at the time or scold me for it, publicly or privately. He would just store it away and punish me for it when I'd all but forgotten what I'd done to piss him off. And he always made sure the punishment was public and very humiliating."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"I remember in fifth year when the two of you were together, the way every now and then he'd stop being such an arse to the rest of us to be terrible cruel to you," she said quietly.

"Yes," Pansy's lips twisted. "He'd arrange a date for us and then stand me up. Or he'd tell me there was something we were going to do and then hang me out to dry when school rules got broken, disappearing before he could be caught. He's not the type to take dissension well and he loathes being told he's wrong."

"Because he rarely is and feels stupid when he actually _is_ wrong. It makes him angry because he feels like he's made a fool of himself," Hermione nodded. "It's a shared trait."

Pansy laughed suddenly. "Oh, Morgana, I'd almost forgotten just who I'm talking to. You're even more spiteful than he is. I remember what you did to that girl of Edgecombe at school. And what you did to Umbridge. Not to mention all those misfortunes that befell Lavender Brown while she was dating Ron. You were… vicious. You ruined Edgecombe's looks for life and Umbridge… _that_ was cold."

Hermione stared at the other witch carefully, watching Pansy rake an assessing gaze over Hermione from head to foot.

"I rather look forward to seeing how things between you and Draco play out. I'm imagining that you'll one-up one another and that the fights will be utterly spectacular. I remember the way you used to shout at Weasley. You should know Draco gets nasty when he gets scolded or yelled at."

"I'm aware," Hermione sighed. "It's… I imagine that when the effects of such frequent injections before this bloody wedding wear off a bit, we'll likely try to kill one another."

Pansy giggled.

"Oh, no, Draco will never try to kill you," she murmured, looking thoughtful now. "No, killing you means an end to your suffering and for all that he would deny it with his dying breath, Draco's always had a strange… thing… for you. I'd almost call it an infatuation, but it wouldn't be quite right. In the beginning, at school, he loathed you because his father scolded him for being academically bested by a muggleborn. He's spout venom about wishing you were dead or insulting you or even hexing you in the halls. But… as we all grew, I knew how he felt about you began to change."

"If you try to tell me he was in love with me, I might have to cut you off on the wine, Parkinson," Hermione warned.

Pansy laughed again.

"Oh, no. He was never in love with you… he was… intrigued? No, that's not the right word either. He was curious, I suppose. You're a contradiction to everything his father taught him about muggleborns being weak and slow and bad at magic. You're clever and powerful and daring. You outshine us all when it comes to knowledge and you always got the spells before the rest of us in class. He was curious, the older we got. Curious about how you could be so different to what he'd been taught someone like you should be. Curious about how you'd react to certain things. Towards the end of school I think he was even curious about you in a more sexual manner. I don't think I'd say he fancied you, but he certainly checked you out more than once."

Hermione doubted it. She didn't say so, but she doubted.

"But there are good things about him too," Pansy went on. "As a boyfriend Draco's very possessive. He's possessive of all the things he considers his, but be careful never to let him thing of you as just another one of his belongings, something to be kept but never really cared about. The downfall of being so rich and so pampered is that we purebloods tend to take things for granted. We don't respect others as valued partners in life so much as acquisitions to add to our collection. He'd never stray on you, but he might ignore you or forget to think of your feelings before doing something.

"That being said. Draco is… indulgent. He likely won't ever tell you he loves you, even if he feels that love quite deeply. He's not… well, he didn't used to be affectionate, though being a werewolf has changed that, somewhat. He's… for all that he's been given everything in life, he's very afraid of acknowledging having deep feelings about anything. He won't tell you he adores you or that he thinks you're beautiful, or that he'd be bloody lost without you. But if you pay attention, he'll show you. I never realised it when we were together, but he had his ways of showing he cared for me. He might make me look like a fool, and I might've annoyed the hell out of him being so needy and so whiny. But he did show he cared, just not in ways I was accustomed to."

Hermione listened avidly as Pansy moved into the changing cubicle, apparently too drunk to care that Hermione would see her boobs when she peeled off one bra and tried on the peek-a-boo ones Hermione had handed to her.

"You see, all my life, I've been doted on in the sense that my mother micro-managed my life, and my father gave me whatever I wanted in a material sense. He never had time for a silly simpering daughter unless it was to placate me by giving me something I asked for. A new dress. A pretty diamond necklace. A unicorn. Whatever. And when I started dating Draco, I expected he would do the same thing – that he would show he cared by giving me whatever I asked for – and that he would be with me the way my father is with my mother. He might not have had time to play with me or any idea how to interact with me other than to buy me things and call me pretty, but with my mother he is… inappropriately possessive and lavishes her with attention. I thought Draco would be that way with me."

"He wasn't?" Hermione frowned, thinking about how frequently he lavished inappropriate attention on her. Pansy shook her head.

"No, when Draco's not been pumped full of hormones and aphrodisiacs, he's very… reserved. Lucius is the same way. They don't… they don't play or causally touch or engage in public displays of affection. Oh, they might in private. When Draco and I dated, his parents were often more touchy-feely in private, but Draco wasn't. He's… cold. But he does have his ways of showing he cares."

"Such as?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"He listens," Pansy said softly, looking thoughtful. "He… even when he seems like he's not paying attention, Draco is always listening. If you mention in passing that you want to go to some show or you want some silly thing that you don't need or particularly care about, he'll get it for you. But never in the way you'd expect. If I whined to my father that I wanted a Cerebus, he'd send a servant off to get me one, never mind how I might grow bored of it within a week or what we'd do with it when it grew to adulthood. If I whined to Draco that I wished I could be a princess or that I had a Niffler or something, he wouldn't give it to me. Not right away. He'd wait until I'd forgotten wanting it – fickle, as I am – and then he'd surprise me with a trip overseas where he'd treat me like a princess, introduce me as one and even have a crown made for me. Or he'd take me to a place where they breed Nifflers – covered in jewellery, no less – and tell me that I could have whichever one tried to kill me that hardest trying to get my jewellery because it would be the best of the bunch."

Hermione laughed.

"Yes, he's rather… dangerous, I suppose, in giving you what you want, at times. But there were other things too. He might've never said the words, 'I love you', but in private he'd make me _feel_ that he loved me. He'd never tell me pretty nothings like that I was beautiful or that he thought my dress was sexy, but he'd let me know before the night was through by feeling me up in a dark corner or shagging me senseless in the coat-check or going down on me in a broom cupboard. He's… he's not affectionate, but he's attentive. Don't go into this expecting him to do something thoughtful like bringing you a cup of tea. The elves might, but Draco doesn't notice things like that. He'll surprise you, I expect. You'll spend half the time wondering if he hates you, simply doesn't care about you one way or the other, or just downright dreading his next act of retaliation when you overstep with him. But he'll surprise you."

"What was your biggest surprise?" Hermione wanted to know, surprised at how interesting talking to Pansy could be when the girl wasn't sneering about Ron or sticking her nose in the air in some snoot about something.

Pansy glanced at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment, eyeing the cut of the bra and then raising an eyebrow from Hermione's opinion. Hermione nodded encouragingly.

"After the war, after we'd repeated our final year at school," Pansy said softly. "Draco and I were rocky. He was bitten as punishment midway through the summer before seventh year and we… well, he was too concerned about infecting me by accident or marking me to be shagging me, but for one night when we both got a bit out of control. Anyway, things were unstable. We weren't happy. We both wanted to be shagging, but didn't dare. He was on house arrest and I was in a mood to be frivolous and carefree and flitting about the world enjoying my youth and having survived the war, mostly unscathed. I mentioned, in the middle of a strop, that I missed the people we used to be. Before the war. Before he was bitten. Before everything. I told him I missed the way things had been when we were little children together, me dressing up as a fairy princess, his playing the terrible dragon holding me hostage – he _always_ refused to play the daring and noble prince coming to my rescue – and anyway, I said it in anger, wanting to punish him, spitefully, for being a Death Eater and being a werewolf and being on house arrest and unhappy with me."

Hermione laughed at the idea of Draco wanting to play the villain in their childhood games rather than the hero. It seemed fitting, somehow.

"All of this happened, we had a big fight and I went to France with Daphne and Millicent for a month-long trip of drinking and shopping and sun-baking. I didn't write to him, refused his owls, and basically acted like a heartless bitch. When I came back, missing him and heartsick because Merlin knows the bastard has had my heart since I was a girl, do you know what I found?"

Hermione shook her head.

"He made me a mural. I've got no idea how. He doesn't paint, to my knowledge, but in my bedroom, taking up almost an entire wall, is a mural. It's not a painting, exactly, it more like… a portrayal of us as children. Him - the dragon guarding the tower I'm locked in. Me - a fairy princess, the damsel in distress. A thousand other memories seem to flit about on that thing. It's almost like a penseive filled with memories of our lives before Hogwarts, but it plays like a painting. It was waiting in my bedroom at home when I got there. No note. No explanation. Nothing to indicate he'd done it for me personally, rather than having someone make it for me."

"How do you know he didn't?" she asked.

"Because no one I've ever spoken to or heard of has ever seen one before I show them mine. Draco's got one to match, somewhere in the Manor. He showed me once, when I'd been drinking – before we shagged for the last time, actually – but I don't remember where it's hidden. He made it himself. Charmed it, crafted it, I don't know how, but he did it. It was his goodbye present. He realised in making it, how much we'd changed and how we could never be as we'd once been. In part because of the war, in part because of his lycanthropy. Mostly just because we'd outgrown each other. So he made me a gift that shows me that he still loves me, even if we can't ever be together again, and then he walked away to do what best for me, believing I deserve better than a bitter, ex-Death Eater, werewolf for a boyfriend or a husband."

Hermione noticed as she peered into Pansy's face that there were tears glistening in her eyes.

"I doubt I need to say this, as I imagine Narcissa beat me to it, but be careful with Draco, Hermione," Pansy said quietly. "In all senses of the word. Watch him, because he's not to be trusted completely, ever. He's dangerous and he's cruel. But he's also one of the most deeply feeling people I've ever known, and all of it's locked up behind that smirk and his sneer."

"Don't trust him with my heart because he doesn't know how to treat it, but know that if I take his, it's more fragile and precious than anything else on the planet?" Hermione guessed quietly.

"Oh, yes," Pansy nodded. "Yes, if you can get your hands on his heart, you _must_ be careful with it. I shudder to think what would become of him – of all of us – if you took his heart and broke it."

Hermione blinked thoughtfully when the witch drained her wine glass and then sauntered away to get a refill without looking back, leaving Hermione with too many thoughts and not enough facts to put together the pieces of the puzzle Draco Malfoy was turning out to be.


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N: LOOKY, LOOKY! 2 chapters in as many weeks on this fic! And long ones, too! Aren't you pleased? I'm pretty stoked with myself that I seem to _finally _be getting back on track with this fic. I know some of you are hanging out for the wedding and for the smut that will follow it, but I can't wait to see what you make of this chapter and the one after it. It's close now. I'm thinking the wedding will definitely happen before we hit c30 *winks*. Thanks ever so much for all the love on this story so far! We cleared 2k reviews! WOOOHOOOO! *bum dance*. I love you all! **

**xx-Kitten**

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**Howl for Me**

_By Kittenshift17_

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**Chapter 24**

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Draco Malfoy supposed it might be best to declare himself a bit sloshed. No small feat, given his lycanthropy. That, or he'd been hexed because nothing else could've resulted in him sending a group patronus to Blaise, Theo, Greg, Potter, Weaselbee, Weaselbee's brothers, Longbottom, and Scamander, inviting them to the Manor. Worse, he must be utterly addled to have done so claiming that if their brides-to-be were getting sloshed and getting to know one another, it might be in their best interests to have a few pints together to ensure the crazy bitches didn't figure out how to manipulate them.

"This is madness," Potter declared, staggering slightly on his way toward Draco where they were all traipsing across the Quidditch pitch, drunk, with the intention of a midnight game for no other reason than that Blaise had taunted Weaselbee about who was a better player, Ron or Ginny.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco sneered.

"Fuck off with your 'scared'," Potter replied, laughing and surprising the hell out of Draco. "Every time you say it I feel like we're at that bloody duelling club of Lockhart's in second year, first time we duelled, you remember?"

"How could I forget, Parselmouth?" Draco taunted, smirking. Shit, he must be drunk if he was teasing Potter.

"Shove it, Malfoy," Potter said. "Don't supposed you'd care for a re-match to see who the better Seeker is these days?"

"It's me, Potter," Draco assured him. "Werewolf senses, see? I can hear the snitch fluttering about when it's loose and spot it far better than you can, Four-Eyes."

"Four-Eyes?" Potter scoffed. "What are you? Five? Lay off or I'll start making werewolf jokes."

"Like I haven't heard them before. They're Blaise's favourite."

"He taunts you for being a werewolf?" Potter frowned a bit.

"He thinks it's hilarious. His favourite are the 'A werewolf, a vampire and a hag walk into a bar' type jokes. They're all terrible."

"That's just… sad," Potter declared, looking at Blaise where he was practically tripping over his own feet. The bunch of gits had all tried to keep up with Draco's drinking pace, forgetting that Draco was a hermit, a werewolf, and something of an alcoholic in his solitude.

"That's Blaise for you. Thinks he's hilarious, though."

"He and Ginny will get along like a house on fire," Potter mused. "She _loves_ those kinds of jokes."

Draco smirked, thinking that Zabini and the Weaselette already got along like a house on fire. In fact, he'd put good money on them almost burning Blaise's house down with their wild shagging. At least, he would based on the fact that when she'd turned up at her flat with Granger after spending the day 'moving in' with Blaise, she'd reeked of Blaise and of sex. Not that he was about to tell Potter that.

"Actually, while those other tossers are all busy," Potter went on when Draco made no reply. "I wanted to talk to you about Hermione."

"Is this the portion of the evening where we all start threatening each other not to be bastards?" Draco drawled. "Because if so, I've got an earful for Weasley."

"Just don't hurt her, Malfoy," Potter grumbled, catching his elbow and pulling him to a stop even as some of the others kicked off, shooting into the air to play the game despite not having released the balls yet.

Draco glanced down at the hand on his elbow, always surprised when anyone willingly touched him – especially when they knew he was a werewolf. He narrowed his eyes on Potter.

"Don't look at me like that, Malfoy," Potter warned when Draco bared his teeth at him. "I'm not scared of you, werewolf or not. I threw a punch at Remus one night when he gave me that shit, so knock it off or I'll throw one at you, too. I'm not trying to tell you what kind of husband to be and I'm not going to threaten you because I know Hermione can handle herself and that she'll walk all over you if the need arises. Just… don't hurt her. Don't be you usual arsehole of a self. I know what you used to do to Parkinson at school and I know what will happen if you try and pull that shit with Hermione. I'm not here to warn you not to mess with her, I'm trying to warn you that if you _do_, she'll fuck you up."

Draco raised one eyebrow. "What's she going to do? Hex me? Werewolf, remember? Most hexes bounce right off."

"As if Hermione doesn't know the ones that won't?" Potter raised one eyebrow in return, smirking just a bit. "Look, I'm just saying that if you try to publicly humiliate her, she'll annihilate you. She's creative, she's clinical and sometimes she'd downright cold. Just… don't fuck with her."

"You actually think there's anything that wild-haired mess of a witch could do that will phase me?" Draco asked, amused. "Annoy me? Sure. Nag me? Embarrass me? Infuriate me? All of them, I'll bet. But there's nothing she can do in retaliation that will _phase_ me."

"You have no grasp of her vindictive streak if you think that," Potter shook his head. "Look, take my advice or don't, I don't much care. But _when _she fucks you up, makes you regret being born, and makes you want to kill her, don't say I didn't warn you."

Draco shook his head slowly, watching as Potter mounted his broom, kicked off and shot into the air to join the others.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

To say she was drunk by the time they were all packed off out of the pub they'd ended up in after the lingerie shopping was concluded, would've been an understatement. Hermione was well and truly sloshed, and she wanted to have a shower and fall into bed.

"Where are the boys?" Ginny asked. "I feel like Zabini said something about drinks with Malfoy at the Manor? Hang on, I'll send a patronus."

Hermione watched Ginny cast her mare patronus, sending a message along with it to Blaise to find out where they all were.

"I doubt they'll all be together," Tracy spoke up. "Our intended husbands don't exactly get along."

"You never know," Ginny said. "Maybe a show of solidarity from them might mimic this thing we've all been up to. Zabini did say something about drinking with Malfoy and about having to put up with Harry and Ron."

A few minutes of drunken staggering later – they were heading for a pizza place down the street that was open late – a bright white patronus whizzed into their midst. The silver stag signified it belonged to Harry.

"We're all at Malfoy Manor," Harry said, sounds of the other laughing and shouting in the background. "There's food. And whiskey. And there was Quidditch before Ron ploughed into the ground. And there was a game of pool for a while, before me and Zabini got into it and I had to punch him. But now there's food, and… Oi! Shut up, you tossers, Zabini, you started the bloody fight! Anyway… You lot should come. Hehehe… _come_… get it."

Hermione covered her mouth, listening to Harry's drunken rambling as he argued with Zabini some more.

"Don't know if this works with someone else's patronus," Draco's voice took over, also slurring drunkenly. "But hopefully it does. Wifey! Get your arse home, and bring all those slags with you. Someone has to clear out their riff-raff husbands and if it's got to be me, I'm using my claws to chase them out!"

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Hermione grumbled when the Patronus message ended and the stag disappeared.

"He calls you _'Wifey_'?" Tracy began to laugh, throwing her head back. "Oh, I cannot _wait_ to see you two destroy each other."

"I told him not to," Hermione protested.

"Mistake number one," Pansy sneered. "_Never_ tell Draco Malfoy not to do something because it annoys you. It guarantees that he will do it forever."

"Urgh!" Hermione grumbled.

"He called the Manor your home, Granger" Millicent pointed out. "Did anyone else catch that?"

"Well, since I'll be forced to move in there in a few days, it technically _is_ my home," Hermione argued.

"Oh, 'Mione," Ginny began to laugh. "You are so screwed."

"Hey, I'm not the one shagging already my fiancé so much that I haven't managed to move most of my stuff into his house," Hermione replied.

"Moving is just so boring," Ginny shrugged. "And Zabini is so totally _not_ boring."

The girls all jeered as Ginny raised both arms in triumph.

"They have food," Pansy pointed out. "Potter said so. And the food at the Manor will be _so_ much better than late-night pizza. Should we apparate?"

"_Can_ we apparate?" Millicent grunted. "I might splinch myself, I'm pretty pissed."

"It might be safer to take the Knight Bus," Hannah suggested. "I'm sure they know the way. And no one will end up losing a limb."

Hermione threw out her arm and they all squealed when the bus appeared before them, nearly running over Tracy as she wiggled her hips, mumbling the words of the song that had been playing in the pub.

"Welcome to the… bloody hell!" their conductor exclaimed in shock when they all began piling on board.

"All of us for Malfoy Manor, please," Hermione said.

They all handed over some money for their tickets and took their seats quickly. Hermione didn't know how she ended up next to Tracy, but she smiled at the other witch tentatively.

"So," Tracy said. "I think the night went well. You and Pansy looked cosy toward the end of the evening. I told you, she comes across cold, but she's soft underneath. Just insecure."

Hermione nodded her head.

"Will you tell me about Harry?" Tracy begged suddenly. "What am I in for?"

Hermione pondered if for a moment.

"You're in for someone who loathes the spotlight and loathes being famous," Hermione admitted. "And someone who is like a brother to me, and probably the best man I know. He's a bit of a dork, if I'm honest. Loves Quidditch. Thinks too much about things and worries too often, but he's a good man."

"Anything I should avoid doing or saying?" Tracy asked.

"Don't ask him about the war, or about Voldemort," Hermione shrugged. "And don't be insensitive about his family. He misses them. A lot. And he'll likely want to name his kids after them. So, you know, expect that. Offer that, if you're alright with it. Um…. What else do you need to know about Harry? Oh! He's a right git when he loses his temper – which isn't that often anymore, but he still does occasionally. And he has a problem for leaving his socks in the most annoying places. Seriously, it will drive you batty."

Tracy laughed at the idea.

"Tell me the truth, Hermione," Tracy said quietly. "How do you think all of this is going to play out? You and Draco? Pansy and Ron? Me and Harry? We're all high on the potions right now, but when they back off the dosage levels, are we all going to feel like fools and end up loathing each other."

"I don't know," Hermione admitted with a shrug. "Maybe. I think the most important thing is to get to know each other well, and to understand that some of this will always be awkward. And that, for a while, it might be confusing trying to navigate which feelings are manufactured and which are genuine. Honestly, I've been worrying myself sick that we'll all be drugged into being in love, and then they'll stop dosing us and everything will go tits up because the effects will wear off and it will feel like falling out of love with one another."

Tracy nodded.

"I've been worrying about it, too. I just don't know what to do about it. The Ministry is currently making us stupid with the drugs for the wedding, with it being so close, but what about after the honeymoon?"

"I'm wondering if they might drastically lower the oxytocin after the honeymoons. Drop it back to just being fertility potions. By then we'll all have shagged our spouses stupid and might have kids on the way. And if not, it will be like a really, really great honeymoon, followed by a return to reality. Removing that part of the dosage will mean we still get horny for our spouse, but not because we'll be forced to crave them, it'll just be an increased libido, you know? I hope that's their plan. If not, they're going to boost the population drastically and then, a few years from now, the Ministry will have a record number of divorces on their hands."

"MALFOY MANOR!" the conductor announced when they arrived and the girls all piled off the bus, spilling onto the road outside the gates.

Flicking her wand, Hermione sent a Patronus to Malfoy, telling him they were outside the gates and needed to be granted access to get in. A minute later the gates creaked open, admitting them all.

"Bloody wards," Daphne grumbled as they all traipsed up the drive towards the Manor looming in the distance. Hermione tried to ignore her shiver as they approached, reminding herself that this was to be her home, not a place to be feared.

"Where do you think they'll be?" Pansy asked, pushing open the front door and leading them all inside, clearly knowing the way better than everyone else.

"They is being in the parlour," Zeet appeared to inform them. "Will the Misses' be wanting food?"

"GODRIC, YES!" Ginny shouted.

"OI! DON'T YOU GO SHOUTING THAT UNLESS I'M FUCKING YOU, BABE!" Zabini's voice came from somewhere and Ginny began to snicker.

The girls laughed with her, shocked.

"Bloody git," Ginny laughed. "He's just begging to be punched again, yelling things like that."

"Mistress?" Zeet asked, moving over to Hermione and tugging on her hand.

"Yes, Zeet?" Hermione asked as the girls all traipsed off with Pansy in the lead, heading for the parlour.

"Master Draco be asking me to be telling the Mistress that he be insisting you be having something decent to eat. He say you not be eating while you is out. Zeet brings you something decent in the parlour?"

"I…" Hermione frowned. "That would be lovely Zeet. What's on the menu?"

"Anything you be liking, Mistress," Zeet smiled.

"Oh… Um. Maybe pancakes? Or a croissant? Pizza? Something with bread."

"Zeet brings them all, Mistress," the elf smiled before he dashed away.

Hermione hurried after the girls, vaguely recalling Malfoy showing her the parlour in his wing of the Manor. She smirked to herself on the way when she realised she was still carrying the bag of lingerie she'd bought at the shop. Figuring she might as well put it away before Malfoy could spot it and before her friends had to see it and have aneurysms, Hermione swung past the bedroom she would share with Draco from here on out, sighing when she entered the room. Having only spent one night, so far, it smelled predominantly of him. Lemon and caramel. The smell hit her sensitive nose and Hermione drew it into her lungs deeply, feeling better than she had since leaving Draco at her flat.

Strolling into the walk-in wardrobe, Hermione kicked her high heels off her feet, more than a bit tipsy and taking great delight in setting the shoes in their designated spot, lined up on the floor of her side of the closet. She stashed the bag of knickers in the back of her underwear drawer and tossed up the merits of grabbing a shower before joining the others in the parlour. Expecting more drinking might be in order, Hermione supposed it would be silly to change or to bathe when she would just get all icky again.

Pleased to have ditched her shoes, at least, Hermione was crossing the bedroom when a soft sound drew her attention and she glanced toward the bedroom door to spot Draco leaning there. Hermione hated herself for the insistent throb of desire that pulsed through her at the sight he made. Dressed in charcoal slacks and a navy oxford with the top three buttons undone, his hair windswept form flying and a wicked smirk on his face, he looked delectable.

"Wifey," he greeted her.

"Husband," she replied without thinking, earning a low, purring sort of growl as she kept moving toward the door to meet him.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "The others feared you'd gotten lost and sent me looking for you."

Hermione doubted it, somehow.

"You just wanted an excuse to be free of them, didn't you? Your hermit nature is wanting to kick them all out now that I'm home," Hermione taunted. Draco looked wickedly amused at the very idea.

"You just called the Manor 'home'," he said, grinning.

Hermione felt her cheeks flood crimson as she moved until she was standing directly in front of him. She didn't even really think about it as she brought her hands up, looping them around the back of his neck and tangling her fingers in the blond hair at his nape. He watched her as she leaned into him, resting her cheek on his chest and listening to the sound of his heart beating steadily inside his chest.

She didn't know what to make of everything when the sound calmed her, somehow.

"You reek of the other witches," he informed her, one hand clutching a glass of whiskey while the other snaked around her waist, pressing her flush against him. He lowered his head to fit his teeth to the bite on her shoulder and Hermione closed her eyes, sighing softly.

"I was thinking about showering," she admitted. "But then I figured we'd be up with the others, drinking and Merlin knows what else, and that it didn't make any sense to shower twice."

"You realise that if you're showering before bed, I'll be joining you, right?" he said quietly.

"Probably a bad idea," Hermione replied even as she snuggled her cheek against his chest, finding the strangest comfort in cuddling into him and coating herself in his scent.

"I'll be good," he promised. "I know your rules. I won't break them before our wedding day."

Hermione smiled slowly to herself, realising she was well and truly plonkered-off-her-tits-drunk when she felt a prickle of joy at the way he said 'our wedding day'.

"We should re-join the others," she murmured to him.

"Or there's the shower," he counter-offered.

Hermione laughed. "Later," she promised. "I want to hear about why Harry was punching Zabini."

"How drunk are you, wifey?" Draco asked her in amusement when she giggled over the very idea.

"Extremely. There are two of you," Hermione said.

"Twice the fun," he smirked.

"Pretty nice view, too," she replied, smiling widely before pulling out of his embrace and sliding past him into the corridor.

"You must be drunk if you're complimenting me," Malfoy laughed as he followed her down the hall in the direction of the noise where their friends were. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet. Zeet said he'd bring me pancakes. And pizza. And croissants."

"That hungry, are you?"

"It's your fault," Hermione assured him, grinning over her shoulder and finding that he was watching her, his grey eyes threaded with gold but not completely flooded. Both the wolf and the man watching her. She suspected he was amused by the fact that she was barefoot, a little dishevelled, and obviously drunk.

As evidenced when she walked into a wall.

"Oops," Hermione giggled, listening to Malfoy laughing at her and too drunk to take offence. "Anyway, as I was saying. It's your fault I've been so hungry. I ate a huge vat of pasta the other night. I usually make the dish to take to the Burrow at Christmas and it feeds the entire Weasley horde. I ate it all by myself. Every bite."

"Your metabolism will be accelerating with the lupine effects of the injections and the bite," Draco told her. "But don't worry, if it looks like you start packing on the pounds, I'll just fuck you more often to burn off the energy."

Hermione groaned, turning to look at him and coming to a stop, waiting for him to close the distance between them.

"What did I say about saying things like that to me?" she asked.

"That you like it?" he teased.

"That it makes me want to climb you like a tree," she corrected without thinking. "And I'm _trying_ to hold out to make our wedding night special. So stop taunting me."

His lips twisted into something between a smile and a wicked smirk, his hand lifting to cup her cheek lightly.

"I'm going to get your drunk more often," he told her, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. "You actually tell the truth when you're drunk, rather than lying to me as though I don't know that everything about me turns you on."

"Oh, it does not," Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes at him before smirking and hurrying into the parlour where their friends were all gathered.

"YOU FOUND HER!" Harry shouted in celebration, spotting Hermione as she sauntered into the room with Malfoy trailing behind her.

"Harry, look at your face!" Hermione exclaimed. "Did you just _let_ Zabini punch you a bunch of times?"

"Have I ever _let_ anyone punch me?" Harry sneered in retort, staggering as he moved towards her and almost pulling them both to the floor when he reached her and threw his arms around her, dragging her into his embrace despite Malfoy's growl.

"Oi, jam it, Malfoy. She was mine first," Harry told the grumpy werewolf, apparently in the mood to be obnoxious in his drunkenness.

"I _will_ end you, Potter," Malfoy warned. "I won't even break a sweat while I rip your throat out. With my teeth."

Harry blew a raspberry at him in retort, tucking Hermione under his arm and steering her away from her future husband.

"Now," Harry said. "Explain to Ginny that Zabini deserved it when I punched him, would you, love?"

"Why did he deserve it?" Hermione frowned.

"He was trying to hustle me at pool," Harry shrugged.

"Oh. Then he completely deserved it," Hermione nodded, looking at Ginny, who was smoothing gentle fingers over the split in Zabini's left eyebrow.

"You don't just punch people over pool," Ginny protested, lecturing her ex-boyfriend while her fiancé looked like he didn't know if he should be amused, alarmed, or jealous.

"You do," Harry assured her. "Remus and Sirius taught me to play and they insisted that anyone who hustles pool needs a good right-hook to the jaw."

Hermione giggled, looking over in Draco's direction when she heard another soft growl. He'd dropped into one of the armchairs and was pouring himself another whiskey, obviously trying to show the restraint and trying not to make a scene over her and Harry touching. When she spied Zeet and Kimmel appearing beside him with a table's worth of food, Hermione almost drooled.

"Food!" she cheered, slipping out of Harry's hold and dashing, barefoot, across the parlour, darting around friends as they chattered, danced and drank. Draco looked up at the sound of her rapid footsteps, just managing to set his drink down before Hermione threw herself down into his lap, reaching for a croissant and a slice of pizza at the same time.

"Do I look like your lounge-chair, Granger?" Draco drawled when everyone looked at her in shock.

"Food?" she offered him the piece of pizza she'd just taken a bite of, grinning and too drunk to care what their friends might think.

"Really?" he asked drily, raising one eyebrow. She could see his lips twitching with amusement.

Hermione shrugged, taking another bite and squirming on his lap until she was comfortable, perched on one of his thighs with her legs draped over the other and over the armrest of the chair. She munched on her pizza hungrily.

"Mistress?" Zeet asked, seeming pleased by her enthusiasm as she hoed into the food. "Would you be liking something to drink?"

"Oh, my gosh, Zeet, I would kill for a cup of tea," Hermione told the elf.

"Tea? Really?" Draco sneered. "You're drinking with your friends and you want a cup of tea."

"If I drink anymore, you'll have to carry me to bed. Without a shower," Hermione told him seriously.

"Tea it is, Zeet," Draco told the elf, making her giggle.

"Am I seeing things?" Ron could be heard from across the room suddenly and Hermione looked in his direction to find him staring at her in confusion.

"You're making quite the scene," Malfoy said, reaching up to press his lips against her ear as he spoke. Hermione shivered at the touch.

"You were the one getting all growly and possessive," Hermione replied sweetly.

"You're sitting in my lap for _my_ benefit?" he challenged.

"Mhmm," Hermione hummed around another bite of pizza before offering him some.

Draco darted a glance at his friends to see if they were paying attention before he leaned up and took a bite, his eyes flooding gold.

"You like it when I share with you," Hermione grinned knowingly, reaching for more pizza when he polished off the bit she was offering him in two large bites.

"I never share," he argued.

"You share with me," Hermione retorted before stealing his whiskey glass from his hand and sipping from it. Malfoy watched her with bemusement glittering in his eyes, though she could see the hunger in them too.

"What are you doing, Granger?" he asked her. "Other than making a scene, and squirming in my lap like an excitable puppy, that is?"

"I'm testing a theory," Hermione smirked.

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. See, Pansy and I had a nice long chat tonight, and I hear tell that you're possessive, and reserved, and not at all affectionate. And that you don't tolerate being made a fool of. And I wondered if that information was accurate, whether it was from before or after you were bitten, or whether it was just _her_ you weren't affectionate with," Hermione said. "See, I think that if she'd ever sat in your lap and tried to feed you – in private or in front of your friends – you'd have dumped her off onto the floor. Yet here I am, feeding you pizza and comfortable as a phoenix in a fire."

"You were jealous," Draco smirked.

"What?" Hermione blinked.

"Don't try to deny it, wifey. You wanted to climb into my lap not to test any theory about whether she was actually right. You just wanted to rub it in her face that you _can_ climb in my lap. Likely after she said something to provoke you about how she and I dated for years. You're marking your territory as surely as a dog cocking his leg."

"I am not!" Hermione protested. "You were being snarly because I hugged Harry. And there was food here. And I wanted to see if you'd let me, because she said you wouldn't."

"If that's what you've got to tell yourself to sleep at night, Granger," he grinned.

"How do you do that?" Hermione demanded, setting aside the pizza to glare at him. "How do you always turn everything I do or say into somehow being me coming onto you or trying to claim you or compliment you? It's never my intention."

"It is," he assured her. "You're a territorial little thing. You always have been, even when you were with Weasley and before then, when you were just friends with him and Potter. It was no secret that no girls made a move on those two because they were afraid of what you might do to them. And you've been ordered to marry me. You're trying to lay claim to me so that no one else will get ideas about one last hurrah before the wedding."

"I'm not," she shook her head. "I don't need to. The potions do that. Don't smirk at me, you bastard! I'm serious! They do. Go on, let me up and go over there and snog Parkinson. See what happens."

"I'm not _that_ stupid, Granger. Try to remember I'm much brighter than your sidekicks, yeah?" he drawled.

Vaguely, Hermione was aware that they were arguing and that their friends were listening and watching.

"You _are_ that stupid if you think I'd be possessive over you or territorial over you," Hermione retorted, wriggling with the intention of getting off his lap. He looped one arm across her, latching onto her hip and holding her in place so she couldn't get up.

"Again with the lying, Hermione?" he asked, her first name dripping off his tongue, making her quiver as a sparkle of desire shot through her.

"Lying this, you bastard," she snapped, elbowing him in the stomach and winding him before rolling free of him.

Draco growled at her but Hermione ignored him, getting to her feet and stomping away in the direction of Harry once more. Harry was snickering as he watched the exchange. Most of Draco's friends simply seemed shocked by the display, apparently not used to seeing anyone talk to Malfoy in such a manner. That, or that were all unnerved by the way Malfoy began snarling all the more when Hermione looped an arm around Harry's waist and suggested a game of pool between the two of them.

"You're playing with fire, love," Harry chuckled even as she pulled him to the table and began setting up the balls, handing Harry a cue.

"Shut up and break," Hermione ordered, snatching his whiskey glass from his hand and skolling the remainder of the liquid inside.

Harry did as he was told. Hermione kept Malfoy in her peripheral vision, surprised when he didn't attempt to follow her or continue their argument, though she could still hear him growling. No one else seemed to, making her think her hearing had improved enough that he was doing it under his breath.

"I'm littles," Harry told her, grinning as he sunk a ball.

"You realise I'm going to have to kick your butt?" Hermione asked, lining up her shot and missing the white ball on the first swipe because she was so drunk.

"I'm shaking in my boots, 'Mione," Harry laughed at her.

"Oh, bite me, Potter," Hermione grumbled, shooting again and hitting the white ball this time, sending it slamming into one of the others, scattering them all across the table.

That got another growl out of Draco. Apparently he didn't like the idea of anyone else biting her. Hermione smirked to herself but ignored him.

"You know, I think I might call it a night?" Neville said a short time later.

"There's beds down the hall if you can't Floo or Apparate," Malfoy offered their friends. "Use Silencing Charms if you're fucking, or I'll bust in and savage you if you disturb me with your raucous sex-sounds."

"Must you, Draco?" Daphne laughed.

"Must I bust in?" he replied. "Witch, if I've got to listen, I'm going to watch, too."

"Ew," Ginny wrinkled her nose.

"Don't mind him, babe," Zabini told his fiancé, tugging her into his side and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "He's always been a peeper."

"Fuck off, Zabini," Malfoy laughed.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Zabini asked.

"Yes," Draco said. "I'm sick of looking at all your stupid faces. Go away."

Ron snorted, obviously not realising Malfoy was serious.

"Took longer than I thought it would," Goyle commented. "Milly? You want to come home with me?"

"I'm not married to you yet, idiot," Millicent rolled her eyes.

"We can get some practice in for the big night," Goyle smirked in return and Millicent laughed at him, shaking her head when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"And there goes my boner," Ron could be heard muttering from across the room, earning dirty looks from Goyle and Millicent.

"Must you be rude?" Parkinson demanded of her fiancé.

"Don't start, woman," Ron rolled his eyes. "Rude is your middle name."

"You would know the first thing about me… how?" Pansy sneered, propping her hands on her hips and glaring him.

"All I've got to do is look at that upturned nosed," Ron said.

"If you two are going to start fighting, I'm going home," Tracy declared, sighing. "Thanks for a fun night, ladies. See you at the wedding, if not before."

"Before," Luna spoke up. "We should… is everyone free on Wednesday?"

"We need to do a rehearsal for the wedding," Tracy nodded seriously. "Does Wednesday suit everyone?"

"You expect us to practice getting married?" Ron curled hi lip.

"Oh, you are _so_ unrefined," Pansy sneered. "It's tradition, so we don't all make arses of ourselves in front of everyone we know, you dolt!"

"Dress rehearsal Wednesday," Tracy declared. "I can't listen to you two bickering. You're ruining my buzz! Potter? Are you coming with me or are you finding your own way home?"

"Are you inviting me home with you?" Harry asked, lifting one eyebrow.

"If you like," Tracy shrugged her shoulders. "If not, I'll see you at our appointment at St. Mungo's tomorrow night."

"I'm coming," Harry replied. "Sorry 'Mione, we'll have to finish our game another night."

He moved over and gave her a quick hug, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

"Ron, mate, try not to kill your wife," Harry said, hurrying to his best friend and shaking his hand. "I'd say I'll see you at home, but if she murders you, please know that I'm going to tell all your embarrassingly stories, one after the other, for your eulogy."

"You're a git, Harry," Ron laughed, his annoyed expression melting away at Harry's cheerful threat.

"See you, mate. Neville!" Harry hurried over to the other boy, drawing him into a manly hug that shocked Neville.

"What was that for?" Neville laughed when Harry pulled away.

"You're a good sort," Harry shrugged and Hermione giggled.

"You're alright too, mate, but I'm not going home with you," Neville shook his head.

"Oi, that reminds me. Owl me tomorrow, yeah? Got to ask you something important. We'll have a drink. Ron, you too."

Hermione watched Tracy, watching Harry. She looked amused and rather fond of the idiot. She wondered as Harry shook George's hand and slapped the redhead on the back, if they'd make a good match. She needed to get to know Tracy better, Hermione thought. Outside of the big group of them.

"George, mate. Drinks tomorrow, yeah? We'll talk shop," Harry told him.

"Shop?" George slurred. "Mate, the shop's all good."

"Nah, you need to hear my pitch," Harry grinned, winking at him. "You'll love it."

"What are you up to, Harry?" George asked, his brow furrowing.

"You'll see. Got to go, lads, got to go. The missus, you know?" he was grinning, shooting an amused glance at Tracy, who looked to be trying to figure out if she wanted to rouse on him for taking too long, or like she wanted to snog him because he was obviously in a good mood and a happy drunk.

"We're leaving, too," Theo Nott announced, slinging his arm around Daphne's shoulders. "We'll all get out of Draco's hair before he mauls someone, yeah?"

"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled.

Hermione shook her head at them all, torn between telling them not to leave her there alone with Malfoy, and wanting them all to leave so that she could eat some more pizza, grab a shower and fall into bed.

"Right. Drinks tomorrow then, is it?" Zabini asked, pointing out how rude Harry was being not organising drinks with all of them.

"Better things to do, mate," Theo replied, nodding his head at Daphne, who smirked.

"Right. Yeah, me too," Zabini grinned, turning his gaze to Ginny, who was in the process of stealing a croissant and taking a large bite. "Aw, babe. Why you always got to be so bloody cute?"

"Cute this, Zabini," Ginny said around her mouthful of food before flipping him the bird.

"Witch, I _will_ spank you," Blaise threatened.

"I'm so scared," Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You will be," he threatened, taking a step toward her. Ginny bolted, laughing the whole way. "Yeah, you better run, witch!"

Hermione shook her head when Zabini bumped his fist to Draco's before racing after his witch, dashing past Harry and Tracy.

"Twitterpated fucking fools," Ron grumbled. "I'm going home. Night."

He nodded to Hermione and clapped his brother on the shoulder before striding for the door.

"Fucking delightful," Pansy sneered but she too shot a nod at them all and followed him. Hermione wondered if they'd end up going home together or if they'd just end up fighting some more.

"I do so love when the Nargles are feeling frisky," Luna mused softly, smiling. "I'm going home, too. Thank you for tonight, Hermione."

"Tracy organised it, Luna."

"Just the same," Luna said, hugging her. She took Rolf's hand and led him off out of the Manor after the others, waving vaguely to them as she left.

"Guess that leaves us," Angelina chuckled. "Home, Georgie?"

"I thought you'd never ask," George grinned crookedly at her.

"Goodnight Hermione," Angelina said, smiling and giggling a little in her tipsy state.

"Night 'Mione," George smiled, ruffling her hair. "See you soon, eh? Don't provoke the grumpy werewolf, yeah? Malfoy, thanks for not being a complete git for the whole night."

"Eat me, Weasley," Malfoy drawled in return.

Hermione snorted at his words while George slung his arm around Angelina and they both wandered away, intent on either Apparating home or catching the Knight Bus, apparently.

"Well," Hermione said quietly when the parlour emptied but for herself and Malfoy. "You certainly know how to clear a room, don't you?"

Malfoy looked over at her slowly, his expression closed off and his eyes cold. He appeared to be annoyed with her and Hermione raised one eyebrow in silent challenge, sauntering closer and scooping up a pancake drizzled with maple syrup. She rolled it into a long, cigar-shape before lifting it to her lips and taking a bite.

Another soft growl escaped Malfoy, his gaze heating considerably at the suggestiveness of her actions. Hermione smirked before taking another bite, finding it rather amusing to provoke him.

"We should get to bed," he said quietly, watching her polish off the pancake and licking his lips as though imaging a certain part of his own anatomy disappearing between her lips in such a manner.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she challenged, picking up another piece of pizza in one hand, and the cup of tea Zeet had fixed for her in the other, carrying them as she made for the bedroom.

"I would, actually," Draco admitted, trailing after her and leaving the elves to tidy up the mess within the parlour. "You're angry with me."

"You accused me of marking my territory," Hermione replied without looking at him.

"Admit that you were, at least a little."

"I just wanted to sit with you and eat the food the elves brought me," Hermione protested. "Sorry for making you think that you're so bloody important I would want to lay claim to you in front of all our friends by sitting with you."

"You're genuinely annoyed about this, aren't you?" he asked, following her into the bedroom and closing the door behind them. Hermione gobbled down the last bite of her pizza, carrying her teacup with her as she wandered into the bathroom.

Draco followed, unbuckling his belt as he did.

"I'm annoyed that you feel the need to twist everything I do and everything I say to have some significant meaning as though I'm as calculating as you," Hermione replied, setting down her teacup on the bathroom sink when it was empty before reaching for the zipper on her dress, trying to claw it down.

Malfoy watched her in the mirror, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as he did so. Hermione kind of hated the way the slow reveal of his flesh as he undid each button made her want to turn around and lick each newly revealed inch of him. He didn't say anything else about their argument, seeming genuinely intrigued by how she viewed everything between them.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asked quietly.

Hermione glanced up to meet his gaze, noticing that they were all silver.

"It was nice," she shrugged.

"Missed me, didn't you?" he smirked.

"When you're so snarky and conceited?" Hermione challenged, raising her eyebrows.

He smirked in return, apparently taking that as a yes. He dropped his shirt to the bathroom floor, revealing the expanse of his pale torso, littered with scars from his transformations. Hermione's eyes dropped to drink in the sight of him under the bright lights of the bathroom, wondering how he might react if she turned around and nibbled on his collarbones.

He reached for her slowly, helping her with the zipper on her dress as she struggled to pull in all the way down. Hermione shivered when he trailed his fingers in the wake of the zipper as it opened, holding her gaze when he slipped his hands inside the parted fabric, smoothing them around to circle her ribs carefully. She pulled at the front of the dress, letting the straps slide down her arms before watching the entire garment slip down her body to puddle about her bare feet.

To his credit, Draco's eyes remained on her face for a long moment, watching her carefully as though committing her features to memory.

"You're sure you want to shower with me?" he asked softly.

"I'm still angry at you," Hermione replied evenly, not willing to admit that her body was thrumming with need.

"Maybe I can make it up to you?" Malfoy offered, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Hermione's lips twitched, too. "What did you have in mind?"

His wicked grin was a thing of beauty, she thought tipsily.

"Let me show you."


End file.
